


Falling

by BoobearStyles



Category: Falling - Harry Styles (Song), One Direction (Band), Walls - Louis Tomlinson (Album)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Boyfriends, BoyxBoyRomance, Fine Line, LGBTQ Themes, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, Mild Smut, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Strong Language, falling, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:22:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26472571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoobearStyles/pseuds/BoobearStyles
Summary: A fic based on "Falling" by Harry Styles.Liam and Niall are tired of watching their best friends hurting over each other and try to push them back together. Harry is unsure; Louis realizes his mistake. I am terrible at summaries, sorry.*This is a work of fiction and isn't to be taken literally or meant to hurt anyone.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me comments, pleeeasse. It would be greatly appreciated!

Harry  
If someone asked Harry how long it had been since he had last seen Louis, he would lie and say, “Wow, pfft, I don’t even know, it’s been a long time”, but in his head, he would be answering , it has been 4 years, 4 fucking years since I had seen Lou and it is killing me inside.   
“Haz, let’s go out and just get sloshed. You need to have some fun, celebrate the new album.” Niall is trying to convince him. Harry sighs, holding up his freshly made margarita.   
“I am having fun.” Harry responds, earning an eye roll.   
“No, let’s go and get proper fucked up.” Niall declares, slapping his hand on Harry’s knee. Harry looks into his glass, feeling as though he is witnessing his margarita melt in real time.  
“Ni, I can’t. His birthday just passed and I wasn’t with him. Another fucking birthday, another holiday, another should-be anniversary passed and I haven’t seen him.” Harry rants, forcing the lump down his throat with a swig of his margarita. Niall wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulders, patting his right shoulder.   
“Alright, alright, Haz. We’ll stay in this time.” Niall concedes.   
“I miss him, Ni.”  
“I know. You know that he misses you, too, Harry.”  
“Don’t. Just don’t. If he missed me, then he would make the effort to see me.”  
“You don’t exactly make the effort, either, Haz.” Niall mutters. Harry whips his head to look at Niall incredulously.   
“I tried for years, Niall. For years! He just wasn’t ready. What was I supposed to do?” Harry asks, slamming the rest of his glass, giving himself brain freeze in the process.   
“So, you just stop talking to him? That’s your solution?”  
“I couldn’t do it, Niall! I kept loving him, wanting him, but he couldn’t reciprocate! He said that he loved me, but why did he leave me, then?” Harry begs, standing and walking back to his kitchen to pour more of the margarita out of the blender into his glass.   
“He was scared, Haz.”  
“Then, he shouldn’t have started something with me in the first place.” Harry mutters.   
“Look, lets just drop it, I don’t want to hurt you and we need to distract you. Let’s just have some fun, yeah?” Niall suggests, standing beside Harry. Harry sips his margarita and nods his head.   
“Alright, yeah.” Harry responds, following Niall back towards the couch.   
***  
Louis  
Harry’s album came out a couple of weeks ago and Louis couldn’t be prouder. He felt every word, every melody, every note all the way to his toes. His heart broke as Harry sang, "And I get the feeling that you’ll never need me, again". Louis wanted to call him up and tell him that he’ll always need him, that he needs him now, possibly more than he's ever needed him in his entire life.   
“Lou?” Liam calls. Louis shakes his head, clearing his mind.  
“We should go out.” Liam suggests, looking at him, worried.   
“I don’t really feel up to it, mate.” Louis responds, staring down at his phone, proud of Harry for being so open about himself.   
“You need to get your mind off of Harry.”   
“I can’t. His album—it’s for me.”   
“I know, Lou. But it’s not going to do anything if you just sit here, listening to it and not calling him up.”   
“He hasn’t exactly called me, either.” Louis spits.   
“It’s like you’re playing a game of chicken and you’re both swerving.”  
“I fucked up, Li. I fucked things up with him so bad. He deserves so much more.”  
“But he’s not moving on, Lou. He can’t.”   
“How do you know?”  
“I may have talked to Niall, who has been talking to Harry.” Liam discloses, sheepishly. Louis’s eyes snap towards him, eyes wide.  
“What has he said?”  
“He’s pretty heart broken, to be honest. He won’t leave the house because your birthday just passed and he misses you.”   
“I miss him, too.”  
“Then, stop being a fucking twat and call him.” Liam offers, raising a challenging brow at him.  
“Fuck off.” Louis responds, focusing his attention back on the game of FIFA they were playing.   
***  
Hours after Liam had left, Louis sat in bed just staring at Harry’s contact, ready to type out a message to send him, but not getting the courage to do it. He can’t find the right words to say to him; heat building under the skin of his cheeks and neck when he starts to type something before chickening out. He has the sudden urge to throw his phone across the room.   
“Just type it out, Tommo.” He scolds himself. He groans and types out all of the rubbish that is flooding his mind; things that consist mainly of, “I miss you so much that I feel like I can’t breathe, I’m so proud of you, I never stopped loving you, I need you.” But he feels like a sap just thinking those things. So, he doesn’t send anything. He chews on his bottom lip, tearing pieces of it with his teeth as he settles on a shit text that says, “How are you” and nothing else. He starts to internally panic, rubbing his hands on his thighs as he waits for a response.   
Haz: Lou?  
Louis: Yeah.  
Haz: Are you pissed?  
Louis: Ha, no. You’ve just been all over the internet and I wanted to congratulate you on the album.   
Haz: Thanks.   
Louis: Sure thing.  
Haz: is that all?  
Louis: Yep.  
Haz: Okay.  
Haz: Happy late birthday.   
Haz: I miss you.  
At that, Louis does throw his phone. The emotions threatening to swallow him whole. All he can do is cry about the boy that he felt the need to release, cry about the only person that he has ever loved, and curse himself for ever letting him go in the first place, because damn, if he doesn’t miss that boy more than anything.   
“What the fuck have I done?” he asks himself as he picks his phone back up and looks down at their exchange. He falls back on to his bed, cradling his phone to his chest as though it were his lifeline, falling asleep to the thought that Harry misses him.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry  
Harry’s heart clenches as he thinks about their text conversation. He feels it tearing. Not much was said, but there were words exchanged when that hasn’t happened it what feels like eons. He sighs as he watches Louis’s interviews; still as beautiful as ever, he thinks to himself. A call from Niall interrupts the music video for We Made It, earning a pouting Harry.  
“Quit your fucking moping around. Get dressed, I’m taking you out and before you ask, the answer is no, you don’t have a choice.” Niall spits out, hanging up before Harry has the chance to even say anything. He takes one more look down at his phone screen and sighs, standing to comply with Niall’s orders. He grabs a pair of jeans and a plain black button down. He slips into a pair of boots and texts Niall to ask him where he is right as his doorbell sounds.  
“Fucking finally, call me up—oh, Liam?” he answers, confusion pulling his brows together.  
“Hey there, Harry. Niall sent me to get you. He’s already there.” Harry frowns as he grabs a jacket off of the rack before heading out with Liam.  
“Okay then, I guess.” Harry follows Liam out to his car, shooting a quick, 'what the fuck', to Niall before looking over at Liam.  
“How’re you holding up, Haz?” Liam questions as he pulls out of Harry’s private driveway. Harry takes a deep breath, shrugging his shoulders.  
“Fine, I guess.”  
“You’re a shit liar. Always have been.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“You look exhausted.” Liam comments.  
“That’s because I am exhausted.”  
“Because of Louis?” he catechizes, and if he noticed the way that Harry slightly flinched at the mention of Louis, then he doesn’t mention it.  
“Because of Louis. Can we not talk about him, please?” Harry pleads, sighing and running a hand through his hair as his mind races through their conversation—if it can be called that—for the millionth time.  
“No mention of Louis, got it.” Liam salutes, pulling a lopsided grin from Harry. The rest of the drive is relatively quiet, which bothers Harry none, but then they pull up to a nightclub.  
“What the fuck has Niall got me into?”  
“A club. To get your mind off of Voldemort, Harry.” Liam pokes, pulling a dry chuckle from Harry.  
“This isn’t going to work. I’ll probably just end up grabbing a cab.” Harry pouts.  
“Just try, for fuck’s sake, Harry.”  
“That’s why I’m here.” Harry mumbles, climbing out of the car to join Liam as he walks into the club that he doesn’t even know the name of. There are neon purple and pink lights hung around, black plush couches placed randomly and ample dancing room. “Where the fuck is Niall?” Harry calls over the thump of music.  
“He just texted me and told me that he’s at the bar.”  
“Which fucking one?!” Harry queries, looking around and noticing three so far, one on each wall that he’s seen. Liam throws his head back and laughs, tugging Harry toward the one closest to them. Harry spots him before they even approach, would know that feathery caramel colored hair anywhere. He stops dead in his tracks, his lungs forgetting how to function.  
“Lou?” he whispers, his heart breaking into a million pieces.  
“Niall!” Liam calls over the music, and then everything moves in slow motion; Niall turning, clapping Louis on the shoulder and pointing in their direction, then Louis turning. Louis’s gaze meets Harry’s and the same panic that Harry feels is reflected in Louis’s eyes. Harry tugs on Liam’s arm, forcing him to look at him.  
“What the fuck is going on here?!” he growls at Liam.  
“Neither one of you had the balls to do anything; both of you are hurting and we were tired of it. So, get over yourself and make up with the man that we all know is the only one able to heal you.” Liam scolds. Harry feels his chest tighten and his eyes immediately scan the area for the quickest escape. His mind is a jumble of: Fuck, fuck, FUCK; I need to get out of here; He’s staring at me, I can feel it; FUCK, I need to get out of here.  
“Harry, calm down.” Niall is coaxing, hands on Harry’s shoulders, trying to gain his attention.  
“Niall, why?” he implores, body full of desperation.  
“Because I’ve watched you be heartbroken for too long. Lou is the solution.”  
“No! He’s the fucking cause!” Harry shouts, and his heart breaks more when Louis’s eyes snap to him at that. Harry shakes his head frantically, tugging his fingers through his hair. “I need to get out of here. I can’t do this. I need—I just need to go.” He chokes out, refusing to look at Louis as he turns on his heel, trying to put distance between them. 

***  
Louis  
The look of heartbreak that crossed Harry’s features when their eyes met is one that Louis thought he would never have to see again. He turns to Liam, disbelief in his eyes as he puts his drink to his lips.  
“Liam, what the fuck?”  
“Niall and I talked a few days ago and we both thought that forcing you two together would be better than the pining that has been going on the past 4 years.” Liam counters, simply.  
“Look at him, Liam. Does that look like this is doing any fucking good?”  
“You need to talk to him, Lou.”  
“I tried. I texted him the other night.” Liam’s eyes go wide.  
“Let me see.” Liam orders, skepticism written all over his features. Louis hands his phone over and Liam scoffs at him. “I see that Harry made more of an effort than you did, as usual.”  
“What the fuck?”  
“He opened up and said that he missed you. You pussied out.”  
“No! He’s the fucking cause!” Harry shouts, their eyes meeting, again. Louis wants to wrap him in an embrace, hold him so tight that Harry’s broken pieces heal back together. He sees the glossiness in Harry’s eyes as he tugs his hair and searches for a way out. “I need to get out of here. I can’t do this. I need—I just need to go.” Harry chokes out, turning on his heel before they can see the tears fall, but Louis knows that they did. He’s following Harry before he knows what he’s doing, calling for him.  
“Harry, wait!” Louis calls, making Harry freeze in the middle of the room. He can see the tremble in Harry’s shoulders and the way that his head hangs low.  
“Lou, please. I can’t—this is—I just—please.” Harry stutters out, refusing to turn back and look at Louis.  
“Let me talk to you, please.” Louis beseeches, tugging on Harry’s arm, making him flinch.  
“I need to get out of here.” Harry says, again. He pulls away from Louis, continuing to try to find a way out of the club with Louis on his heels.  
“Harry, please, just look at me!” Louis shouts at Harry as they finally make it outside. Harry turns, looking into Louis’s eyes, breathing heavy. Harry’s cheeks are pink, his eyes are glossy with tears that are providing a steady stream down his perfect face and Louis just wants to take it all away. “I’m sorry.” Louis chokes out.  
“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” Harry scoffs, not bothering to wipe the tears away as he looks away from Louis.  
“I know. I know, Harry. I know that I fucked up.” Louis denotes, hands itching to take a hold of Harry’s. “You have no fucking clue how much I wish I could take it back.” Louis says, swallowing the lump in his throat that is threatening to choke him.  
“Well, you can’t, Lou.” Harry whispers, sniffling, looking back into Louis’s eyes.  
“Haz, I miss you. I miss you so fucking much that I can’t breathe, sometimes.”  
“Just stop. I can’t.” Harry voices, his breathing stuttering as he looks up at the dark sky above them.  
“No. It’s true. I still—”  
“Lou!” Eleanor calls. Harry presses his lips together, nods his head slowly and turns away from him, walking down the street, away from Louis, yet again. “Was that Harry?” Eleanor asks, linking her arm through his. He pulls away from her.  
“No one is around, you don’t have to pretend.” He spits, making his way back inside. He meets back with Niall and Liam at the bar, ordering a round of shots that he finishes himself.  
“Where is Harry?” Niall requests.  
“He left. I was about to tell him that I still love him but then my girlfriend showed up.” Louis spits, chasing his shots with his beer. “I can’t see him like that, again. I need to fix this. I can’t walk around knowing that he feels like this.” Louis announces, shaking his head, ordering another round of shots.  
“I’m going to go find him.” Niall answers, receiving nods from Louis and Liam. Louis sits with his head in his hands.  
“Fuck, I love him so much.” Louis sighs, running his hands down his face. Liam claps him on the back.  
“We know, mate.”  
“How do I fix this?” Louis asks no one in particular.  
“For one, you need to make more of an effort, Lou. I know you thought that leaving Harry was what was best for him, but that wasn’t really your decision to make. You didn’t even give him a choice.” Liam says, blunt. Louis inhales deeply.  
“I know. I just didn’t want him to resent me for hiding him.”  
“Well, now he resents you because you left him. You not only lost the greatest love you’ll ever know, but you lost your best mate, too.”  
“I know. You’re not helping. How do I fix this?”  
“Keep trying to reach out. Start out small; I think after tonight, he needs small. We knew that it was going to be a lot, but you needed the push and so did he.” Liam continues. Louis nods his head.  
“You know that I don’t ever do anything small.”  
“This is true, but you need to try for him. You saw it, Lou. He’s broken.”  
“No. He’s not broken. He’s broken hearted, there’s a difference.” Louis corrects.  
“Well, then fucking put the pieces back together Lou. We can’t go on watching him this way.”  
“Neither can I. I can’t live in ignorance, anymore.”  
“That was the point of this whole thing, to show you both how fucked you guys feel.”  
“I am grateful while wanting to punch you in the face at the same time.” Louis responds, earning a chuckle.  
“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”  
“I need to fix this.” Louis says, again.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry  
Harry walks and keeps walking; his vision has gone blurry from the never-ending stream of tears. He stops in the next pub that he passes, sitting at the bar and raising his hand up to signal at the bartender. He rests his elbows on the bar before him, the wood sticky with dried liqueur and different alcohols, making it hold a tacky feeling.   
“What can I get you?” the tall, bulky man asks.   
“Whisky. Neat.” Harry answers, his voice gruff and deeper than usual. The man sets the drink before Harry, walking away to tend to other customers. He closes his eyes as he takes his first sip, appreciating the burn. 'Haz, I miss you', is playing over and over in his head. If you miss me, then why haven’t you tried to reach out all of these years, he thinks to himself, slamming the drink as he thinks about what Lou was going to say but didn’t finish. You still what, Lou, he thinks bitterly. Still think it was a good choice to leave me, to break my heart, to stop trying, he asks himself. His phone vibrating in his right pocket pulls him out of his spiral.   
“What?” he answers, pissed off and above all, hurt.   
“Where did you go, Haz?” Niall demands, breathless with worry.   
“Some pub. I don’t know how long I was walking for so I don’t know how far I am.”   
“Could you fucking figure it out? I’ve been looking for you for an hour now.” Harry flags the bartender down, again.   
“First, could I get a double of that, and second, what is this pub called?” He asks. The bartender chuckles, retrieving Harry’s glass to refill it before placing it back in front of him.   
“McKneely’s.” He answers.   
“You catch that?”   
“Yeah, I’m actually pulling in front of it, now.”   
“Okay, then I can hang up.” Harry says, ending the call and staring into the dark brown liquid that is sloshing around in his cup. A minute later, Niall is sitting beside him, a hand on his back.   
“You dick. I was worried.” He greets, watching Harry lift the glass and finish the contents. “Let’s go, you can drink when I get you home.” Niall orders, his eyes a steely blue that tells Harry not to argue. Niall places the cash on the bar, nodding his head toward the bartender to signal that he’s paid for Harry’s drinks. As they walk out to Niall’s Range Rover, Harry can feel himself spiraling, again.   
“He said that he misses me so much that he can’t breathe.” Are the first words out of Harry’s mouth as they sit in the car.   
“How do you feel about that?” Niall quizzes, cautious as he focuses on the road rather than the bloodshot and glassy eyes of his best mate.   
“Fucking angry. If he missed me, then he could’ve picked up the fucking phone and called.”  
“You could’ve, too, Haz. It’s not all on him.” Niall reminds him, earning a pouting Harry.   
“But the thing that I can’t get out of my fucking head are his last words. The words that died on his tongue as soon as fucking Eleanor walked up.” Harry’s hands ball into fists in his lap.  
“Which were?”  
“I still. Still what, Lou? Still what?” Harry implores the universe to provide him with the answers he was looking for.   
“Loves you.” Niall finishes, catching the way that Harry winces.   
“No, he doesn’t. He’s moved on long ago.” Harry sighs, digging his nails into his palms.   
“If you think that, then you’re pretty fucking stupid, mate. Sorry, but it’s true.” Niall tells him. Harry scoffs.  
“How do you figure that?” he asks, looking over at Niall.   
“Because he still looks at you the way he did all those years ago.”   
“Piss off. He left me, Ni. High and dry.”  
“Have you never heard the term, if you love them, let them go? He thought it was for the best.”   
“You don’t know what he was thinking. None of us do.”  
“Sure, we don’t, Haz. You’re just being a stubborn dick. You know.”   
“It’s easier to be mad.”  
“But you’re not mad. You’re hurt.” Niall points out.   
“Yeah, I am.” Harry concedes, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes to try and staunch the flow of tears. He turns away from Niall, looking out of the window as they drive back to Harry’s house.   
***  
Niall makes good on his promise to get Harry proper fucked up when they get to his house. He’s slouching on the couch with another Niall Concoction in his hand, staring up at the ceiling.   
“I’m gonna call him.” Harry vocalizes, breaking the silence.   
“What?” Niall ponders from his spot in the arm chair.   
“Lou. I’m gonna call him.” Harry says, digging his phone out of his pocket. Niall sits up straight and looks over at Harry as he dials Louis. Harry slumps back against the couch, his eyes never leaving the ceiling as he waits for Louis to answer.  
“Harry?” he answers, voice thick and raspy with sleep. God, his voice is so attractive as soon as he wakes up, Harry thinks.  
“You still what, Lou?” Harry seeks, hiccupping after he finishes the question. He hears Louis sigh on the other end.   
“Haz, are you okay?” Louis questions, voice a little clearer.   
“Haven’t been for years, Lou. Now, answer the question.” Harry confesses.   
“I don’t think this is a conversation to have on the phone, Haz.” Louis voices, his voice sending chills throughout Harry’s whole body.   
“No, you don’t get to make that choice. I want answers, Lou. This is probably the only time I’ll be strong enough to get them.”   
“Are you pissed?”  
“A little bit, but that’s not the point. Answer the fucking question. Still what, Lou?” He inquires, again, his voice coming out more as a whimper.   
“Still love you. I still love you.” Louis gets out, effectively sobering Harry up. Harry feels his heart in his throat as he attempts to sit up straighter. “Harry? You still there?” Louis whispers.   
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here.”   
“Do you want me to let you go?”  
“No! Don’t do that, again.” Harry finds himself saying. “Fuck, my brain to mouth filter is all fucked up right now. Just—say it, again, please.” Harry whimpers, looking up at Niall, who is staring at him, questioningly.   
“I still love you.” Louis repeats. “I’ve always loved you, Haz. Always, never stopped.”   
“Me, too, Lou. But you knew that already, didn’t you?”   
“Your albums spelled it out for me, yeah.”  
“You listened?”  
“Of course. You always did love with your all.”  
“Was my downfall.”   
“No, it wasn’t. Babe, go get some sleep, we’ll talk more in the morning.”   
“It is morning, Lou. It’s 4.”   
“This is not morning, Harry. You know this.” Louis scolds, ripping a chuckle out of Harry. “Go drink some water and climb into bed for me, baby. I’ll call you when I wake up.” Louis orders and Harry finds himself obeying without a question.   
“D’you promise?” Harry pleads, picking at his lip as he eyes the tile beneath his feet while he makes his way to the kitchen.  
“Yeah, I promise. Get some rest, love.”   
“Lou?”  
“Yeah?”   
“Could you say it one more time?”  
“I love you, Harry.”  
“Love you, too, Lou.” Harry murmurs, his eyes welling up with tears.   
“Talk to you in a few hours.” Louis replies, promise in his voice. Harry nods, although he knows that Louis can’t see him.   
“A few hours, Lou.” And with that, they end the call. He stands at his kitchen counter, unblinking. “He said he loves me.” Harry tells Niall as he rounds the corner into the kitchen.   
“Told you.” Niall answers, leaning against the wall with a smug smile.   
“Piss off. I’m going to bed.” Harry utters, taking his glass of water with him. He still loves me, he thinks to himself as he lies on his mountains of pillows. God, I hope this isn’t a dream and if it is, please don’t let me wake up, he falls asleep thinking. 

***  
Louis  
Louis finds it extremely difficult to fall asleep after his call with Harry. Eventually, he does, but Harry never strays from his mind. When he wakes up, he calls Liam.  
“He called me, Liam. He was proper fucked up, but he called me.” Louis spits out as soon as Liam answers.   
“Well, good morning to you, too, Louis. I slept well, thanks for asking.”  
“Cut the shit. He called me.”  
“What was said?” he asks, and so Louis tells him.   
“He said that he still loves me.” Louis says, a bit breathless.   
“Did you say it back?”  
“I said it first.”   
“Holy shit.”   
“Yeah. I promised him that I would call him when I woke up, so I need to get off of the phone so I can make good on my promise. Should I take him breakfast or some tea instead?” Louis spits out, making his way out of bed to get dressed.   
“Louis, small. Just call him.”   
“Right. Small. Right.” Louis huffs out, taking deep breaths.   
“You’re not going small, are you?”   
“Probably not.” Louis confesses, earning a sigh in response.  
“Don’t force it. Just ease into it.” Liam tries to suggest but Louis isn’t listening, anymore. He pulls a black and white striped long sleeve out of his closet along with a pair of jeans.   
“Thanks for the advice, Liam, great chat. Talk later!” Louis says, hanging up the phone to shower and get dressed. He chews on his lip and looks down at his phone before heading out to get tea. Louis heads over to Harry’s before he can chicken out, nerves making his body feel like it’s on vibrate. He buzzes at the gate, waiting for someone to answer.   
“Yeah?” Niall answers, voice sleepy.   
“Nialler! It’s Lou, could you buzz me in?” He requests.   
“Of course!” Niall voices, enthusiastically, groggy voice much more chipper. A second later, the gates open and Louis is driving forward to the driveway. He climbs out of the car, two cups of tea in hand as he takes a deep breath before approaching the door and knocking with his foot. Harry opens the door, sans shirt or trousers, hair sticking up everywhere and rubbing his eyes. He’s breathtaking, Louis thinks to himself.   
“Lou? What’re you doing here?” Harry asks, his cheeks turning pink.   
“Uh, thought you might like some tea after your night.” Louis suggests, his own face flaming up. “So, uh, here you go. I’m off.” Louis imparts, handing Harry a cup. He turns to walk back to his car, but Harry grabs his hand, tugging.  
“No, wait! Please, please. Uh, please, just come in.” Harry pleads, a bit breathless. Louis keeps his eyes on their connected hands while his face burns hotter.   
“Okay, okay, no need to rip my arm off, love.” Louis teases, hoping to ease the tension.   
“Just come in and sit down. I’ll be right out. Need to shower and get dressed.”   
“Harry, I’ve seen you in less. You don’t have to get dressed.” Louis comforts.   
“Well, I’m—just sit down, please. Don’t leave.” Harry states, backing down a hallway that Louis assumes leads to his bedroom.   
“M’not goin’ anywhere, Harry.” Louis promises, watching Harry disappear down the dark hallway. Niall stands with his arms crossed and an annoying smirk on his face.   
“You do not know how to be chill, do you?” Niall ribs. Louis rolls his eyes, walking away from him.  
“Oh, shut it.” Louis sits on the couch, feeling his heart flutter when he sees that Harry still has his matching blanket that they got years ago. “I can’t believe he still has this.” Louis mutters, rubbing the worn fabric.  
“You really think that he would get rid of anything that had to do with you?” Niall judges, a raised eyebrow. “God, the both of you are such idiots.”   
“Fuck off. Does he still take ages in the shower?”   
“Excuse me, Louis, I never took ages in the shower.” Harry responds, emerging with his hair still dripping and still sans shirt. Louis tries to swallow but his mouth has gone dry. Sweet Mother of God, Louis thinks to himself as he tries to figure out how to restart his heart.  
“Of course not, dear. You took eons.”   
“Ha ha, such a comedian, you are.” Harry jokes. Louis feels like his heart could burst out of his chest at any moment; it all feels so familiar and so right, aside from the fact that Harry sits on the entire other end of the couch rather than cuddling up next to him.   
“Thank you, I’ve been told as much.” Louis teases, earning a crooked smile paired with an eye roll.  
“Have you had breakfast, yet? I could cook something.” Harry offers.  
“Yes, please. I’m starving.” Niall answers, earning a full Harry smile and a nod.   
“Sure thing, mate. Louis?” Harry asks, standing.  
“Yeah, that’d be great, mate.” Louis answers, forcing himself to ignore the way Harry’s face falls slightly at that. Harry nods as he walks away to the kitchen. Niall throws a pillow at Louis, frowning.   
“Mate? What the fuck is that?”   
“I don’t want to rush things.”  
“So, you go from telling him that you still love him to calling him mate in the span of a few hours? You have any idea how confusing that must be?” Niall whispers, intense as he looks over Louis’s shoulder to where Harry must’ve disappeared.   
“I didn’t think about it like that.”  
“Yeah, clearly. You don’t think, Lou. You need to tread lightly.”   
“I know Harry, Niall.”  
“Not anymore.” Niall reminds him, standing to walk to wherever. Louis sighs, rubbing his face, before standing to find Harry.   
“Harry?” he calls, looking around the pristine environment.   
“In the kitchen, Lou! Just follow my voice!” Harry shouts. Louis doesn’t follow his voice; he follows the sound of pans and dishes clattering. Niall is sitting on the counter like a big kid and Harry is moving around the kitchen to cook up whatever Niall requested.   
“So, what’s for breakfast, Chef Styles?”  
“Niall wanted French toast and bacon, so he’s lucky that I had the ingredients because otherwise he would be getting a smoothie. It's vegan, will that be a problem, Ni?” Harry declares, narrowing his eyes at Niall, playfully.   
"I will eat your arm, Styles." Niall threatens at which, Harry simply laughs, holding up the real bacon.   
“Sounds good.” Louis responds. He can’t stop the way his eyes drag up and down the expanse of Harry’s torso, noticing how he’s fitter since the last time he’d seen him.   
“Do you want more tea?” Harry asks, a blush coloring his cheeks when he catches Louis staring. Louis nods, averting his gaze, glaring at Niall when he starts cackling.   
“Be more obvious, Lou. Go ahead.” Niall teases, slapping his hand on his thigh in his laughter.   
Once breakfast is done and they’re all sitting at Harry’s table, he can’t help himself as he continues to stare at Harry.   
“What have you been up to, Louis?” Harry asks, much too stiff for Louis’s liking.  
“Oh, you know, just writing and shit.”   
“Same. Actually, going to head out to L.A. in a few days.” Harry answers.   
“Really? Hm, work?”  
“Yeah, gonna meet up with Mitch and the band to go over the set list for tour and shit.” Louis hates that jealousy flares in his blood at the mention of Mitch; unnecessary, he knows, but he just can’t help it.   
“Hm.” Louis hums, watching Harry play with his bottom lip, unable to tear his eyes away. Harry is eyeing Louis’s exposed collar bones, a blush coloring his cheeks. You always did love my collar bones, Louis thinks.  
“Well, I can see where this is headed, so I’m going to head out of the front door.” Niall announces, standing and clapping his hands together.   
“Niall, don’t leave!” Harry calls, standing with him. Louis frowns at that; he can’t even be alone with me, Louis thinks to himself. Harry follows Niall to the front door, returning with a frown. “Sorry about that.” He says, sitting back in his chair.  
“For what?”  
“This is weird, Lou. We haven’t seen each other in years. Haven’t talked in that time, either.”   
“I know, but I couldn’t help myself.”   
“It’s not going to just go back to how it was.” Harry comments, gaze locked on his hands. Louis stands, unable to stop himself from crouching in front of Harry and resting his hands on his knees.  
“I know that, too, Hazza. But that’s exactly why I needed to see you.” Louis affirms, honestly. Harry looks between Louis’s eyes and lips, chewing the inside of his bottom lip.   
“I don’t think you can understand how much I’ve missed you, Lou.”   
“I have an idea.”   
“You don’t.” Harry states, looking into Louis’s eyes, sincere.   
“Have you been alone all of this time?” Louis implores, needing to know while not wanting to know at the same time. Harry leans back in his chair and takes a deep breath.  
“Have you?” Harry volleys.  
“No.”  
“There’s your answer. I had to try to move on. Never worked.” Harry reveals, sighing.   
“Because of me?” Louis catechizes, knowing he sounds self-absorbed, but wanting it to be because of him.   
“Because of you.” Harry imparts. Louis can’t help himself; he surges forward, placing his hands on the sides of Harry’s face and kissing him with all that he has. Harry kisses back, sighing into Louis’s mouth and fisting his hands into Louis’s shirt. Louis works his way into Harry’s hair, tugging like he knows he likes. Harry groans into his mouth, pulling away and resting his hand against Louis’s chest to keep him from kissing him again.   
“What’s wrong?” Louis asks, breathless.   
“This is wrong.”  
“Us?”  
“It’s too soon, Louis. Has anything changed? You and her? Any of it?” Harry beseeches, looking into Louis’s eyes.   
“We’re still together.” Louis admits. He watches Harry’s Adam’s Apple bob when he swallows thickly. Harry exhales heavily, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.   
“Then, why are you here? If you’re with her?” Harry implores, not looking at Louis, and suddenly, Louis understands.   
“No, no, Harry! Baby, no. It’s a contract.” Louis divulges. Harry looks at him, then. Confusion written all over his features.  
“What do you mean that it’s a contract?”   
“We have a lot to discuss.” Louis asseverates, standing and offering his hand to Harry. “We’re going to want to be comfortable for this.” Louis explains as he leads him back to the living room. “Let’s start with why I broke up with you.” Louis starts.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry  
Harry’s mind is swimming with all of this new knowledge. Louis is still sitting beside him, allowing him to absorb it all at his own pace.   
“Am I understanding this correctly, the day that you told me that you had a meeting and they only wanted to see you, they were telling you that you had to have a beard? A cover?” Harry interrogates. Louis nods his head. “And because you didn’t want me to resent you for hiding me, you left me?” Harry reiterates. Louis takes a deep breath, nodding. “And your contract with her isn’t over, yet?” He asks, receiving a head shake in response. “Why are you here, then? If nothing has changed?”   
“Because I am beginning to realize—yes, years later—that it wasn’t fair of me to make that decision for you.” Louis says. Harry stares at his hands, breathing deeply.   
“No, it wasn’t.”   
“Would you have been okay with being my secret?”  
“Would I really have been a secret? A relationship is between 2 people, not the entire world, Lou.”   
“So, you would’ve been okay with us not telling the fans?”  
“They pretty much already knew.”  
“Wow. So, if I had talked to you—”  
“You could’ve saved us both a whole lot of heartache.”   
“And we would still be together.”  
“But we’re not.” Harry states, dragging his hands down his face.   
“So, what do you want to do?” Louis queries. Harry takes a deep breath, shaking his head.   
“I don’t know, Lou. I don’t. I just need a minute, yeah?” Harry pleads, avoiding looking at Louis.   
“Do you want me to leave, then?” Louis wonders, his voice telling Harry that he doesn’t want to.   
“No. I, really, don’t want you to go anywhere. But I need to take this slow. We can’t just pick up where we left off.” Harry utters, looking into Louis’s eyes.   
“What do you want to do, then? That was quite the confusing answer, there, Harold.”   
“What do I want to do, right in this moment?” Harry questions, eyeing Louis’s mouth.   
“Right in this moment.”  
“I want to kiss you, again.” Harry breathes out, eyes locked on Louis’s lips.   
“What’s stopping you?” Louis wonders, licking across his lips, breathless.  
“My brain.” Harry answers, pulling away, scooting away from Louis and taking a deep breath.   
“Your brain is stupid.” Louis answers, pulling a throaty chuckle from Harry.   
“My body agrees.”   
“I like your body. Your body is smart.”   
“Seems that your body is making you stupid.” Harry teases, reaching for the remote. “Wanna play some FIFA?” Harry suggests.   
“Now, your brain is smart.” Louis jokes.  
“Want a beer or something?”   
“Yeah, sounds good.” Louis voices, starting up the game. “I see that you are still awful at this game.” Louis teases when Harry hands him a beer.  
“Fuck off, Tomlinson.” Harry declares, sitting beside him and picking up the controller.   
“You still a sore loser, too?” Louis teases some more. Harry shoves his shoulder, suppressing a smile. “I’ll take that as a yes. It’s alright, Styles, I’ll take it easy on you.” Louis jokes, rewarded with a Harry smile.   
An hour later and Harry is standing to get them another round of beers, calling over his shoulder that Louis cheated.   
“You’re just a sore loser and that’s okay, love.” Louis teases, accepting his beer from Harry.   
“And you’re a cheater.” Harry argues, putting his beer to his lips.   
“Loser.” Louis teases, making Harry chuckle as he is sipping his beer, spluttering it all over his chest.  
“Dick.” Harry laughs out, standing to get a paper towel from the kitchen. When he returns, it’s with his phone in hand, responding to texts from Niall and from Mitch.   
Niall: have you devoured each other, yet?  
Harry: Ha! No. Almost, but we agreed to take it slow.  
Niall: Lame. What’ve you been doing all this time, then? Is he still there?  
Harry: Yeah, he’s here. Playing FIFA and drinking beer. It’s nice.  
Niall: WITHOUT ME?!   
Niall: kidding. And you’re okay?  
Harry: I’m good. Thanks Ni. Love you.  
Niall: love you too. Call me later.  
Mitch: When should I expect you?  
Harry: Gonna postpone until next week.   
Mitch: You okay?  
Harry: Yeah, I’ll explain later.  
Mitch: alright.  
He sits beside Louis, the laughter has died down and now the tension is there, like electricity. Harry takes a deep breath, swallowing thickly as he looks back over to Louis to find that he’s already looking at him. Mother Mary and Joseph, he’s always been so beautiful, Harry asseverates in his mind.   
“So, uh, what do you want to do, now?” Harry asks, putting his beer back to his lips.   
“Right now?”   
“Yeah, right now.”  
“I probably shouldn’t say.”  
“Probably not. How about we watch a movie?” Harry suggests, switching his attention back to the tv.   
“As long as it’s not the Notebook.” Louis goads.  
“What’s wrong with the Notebook?”  
“Nothing, the first time. But after a couple of thousand, it loses its magic.” Louis shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Harry slaps him on the chest.   
“Still jealous of Ryan Gosling?”  
“He’s not that attractive, Harry. You sport a semi throughout the entire movie.”   
“Do not!”   
“Sure, you don’t.” Louis rolls his eyes, fondly, as Harry puts on 50 First Dates.   
“There, happy?” Harry asks, sticking his tongue out at Louis and then he can’t tell if he regrets it or is glad that he did it when Louis lunges at him. Louis leans forward and attaches their lips together, tangling his fingers into Harry’s hair, wasting no time in tugging. Harry moans, bucking his hips up, involuntarily. “Lou.” He breathes out as Louis kisses down his jaw. “Stop.” He breathes out, pulling away. Harry rests his hands on his knees, breathing deeply.   
“Fuck.” Louis breathes, copying Harry’s movements. “Fuck you and your need to not wear clothes.”   
“I’ll go put on a shirt.” Harry offers, standing—another mistake. Louis grabs his hand and tugs him down onto his lap, running his hands up Harry’s sides.   
“I didn’t say that I wanted you to get dressed.” Louis asserts, lips ghosting over Harry’s chest. Harry pulls away, again. Harry shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair.   
“We need to stop. Just—no. Slow, Lou.” He breathes out, earning a frustrated groan from Louis. Louis palms himself through his black jeans, sending Harry’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. “I’m gonna go take a few deep breaths. Don’t go anywhere.” Harry orders.  
“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” Louis sighs out as he grips himself through his jeans. Harry clears his throat as he forces himself to walk away. He steps onto his back patio, inhaling the fresh air, letting it wash over his skin. He continues to take deep breaths, preparing himself to go back inside and be faced with the man that he has been craving for the past 4 years. Louis is resting his head on the back of the couch, his eyes closed while taking some deep breaths of his own.   
“You good in here?” Harry questions as he sits beside him, avoiding patting his thigh like he normally would.   
“Better if you wouldn’t have stopped me, earlier.” Louis responds, opening one eye to look at Harry. Harry shakes his head, shifting his attention back to the tv.   
“You’ll get over it.” Harry responds, patting Louis’s thigh; Lord, help me, I love his legs, Harry clenches his teeth and prays that it’s not obvious that he’s drooling over Louis’s thighs.   
“I’m not sure I will. You’ve wounded me, Harold.” Louis quips, earning another chuckle from Harry.   
“Enough out of you. I’m trying to watch Adam Sandler woo Amnesiac Drew Barrymore.” Harry answers, slapping Louis’s hands away from his lap. “Stop it before I whip out the handcuffs.” Harry jokingly threatens. Louis raises a challenging brow, smirking at him.   
“Oh, please do.” Louis begs, cheeky smirk on his face, earning a groan coupled with an eye roll. In the name of Christ, now I can’t get the image of being tied up by Louis out of my mind, Harry clears his throat again.  
“I went outside to cool off, maybe you should, too. Jesus.”   
“No, my name is Louis. Do you have amnesia, now?” Louis teases, touching Harry’s forehead. Harry smacks his hand away, again, scoffing at him.   
“Leave me alone, you twat.” Harry grumbles, crossing his arms and focusing on the tv.   
“Alright, alright. I’ll let you watch your sappy movie.”   
“Fuck off.” Harry sticks his tongue out, retracting it as soon as Louis raises a brow at him.   
“That’s what I thought.”   
“This is my house, why am I listening to you?”   
“Always been the submissive one, haven’t you?”   
“Ugh, you’ll be the death of me, I swear.”   
“Not before I get my way with you, Styles.” Harry covers Louis’s mouth with his hand at that, rolling his eyes when Louis licks his palm, wiping the spit onto Louis’s cheek. How did they end up here? It feels as though no time has passed. This is dangerous, Harry thinks. 

Louis  
Half way through the movie and Harry’s head has found its way into Louis’s lap and Louis found his fingers in Harry’s hair. Harry is breathing softly, his eyes closed and lips parted slightly, so Louis knows that he’s asleep. His heart threatens to burst out of his chest when Harry grumbles and tightens his hold on Louis as he reaches into his pocket to answer his buzzing phone.   
“What do you want?” Louis whispers at Liam.  
“Why are you whispering?”  
“Harry is asleep in my lap, what do you want?” he asks again, running his fingertips down Harry’s face.   
“So, I take it that you didn’t listen to me and take it slow?”  
“Oh, we’re taking it slow, alright. He stops me whenever I kiss him.”  
“Good for him. He’s protecting himself, Lou, you’ve gotta understand.” Liam reminds him.  
“I know, I know. But, god, it feels so natural. It feels right.”   
“Because it is. Just take things as Harry needs them.”   
“I’m trying.”  
“So, that means, you should probably go home tonight and not stay over.” Liam points out and Louis has the sudden urge to try to slap him through the phone.  
“I’ll leave if Harry tells me to.”   
“You know that he won’t.”  
“Lou?” Harry mumbles, rolling onto his back and stretching, looking up at him.  
“Gotta go, he’s awake.” He tells Liam, hanging up before he can respond. “Good nap, Curly?” he asks, smiling down at him, but Harry isn’t smiling back. Harry is frowning as he sits up and moves back to the other end of the couch.   
“Was that her?” he asks, distaste in his voice, not looking at Louis, staring intently at the screen.   
“No. It was Lima. Hey, what’s wrong?” Louis asks, reaching out to Harry. Harry clears his throat as he moves to stand up.   
“You should probably head out soon, right?” Harry questions, turning the movie off. Louis frowns, standing with him, grabbing Harry’s hands.  
“What’s going on, Harry? We were just fine.”  
“I can’t let you stay, Lou. As much as I want to, I wouldn’t be able to control myself if I knew that you were here tonight. I couldn’t stop my chest from hurting when I thought that you were on the phone with her. It’s all too much, I need less.” Harry rushes out, breathless when Louis rests his hands on the sides of Harry’s face.   
“If you need slow, then we’ll be fucking sloths, Haz. If you want me to go, then I’ll go and come back whenever.” Louis reassures, wanting desperately to lean in and kiss him.  
“I don’t want you to go anywhere, but I need slow, Lou.” Harry whispers, his eyes trained on Louis’s mouth. Louis takes a deep breath as he nods his head.   
“Then, I’ll go. Would you be okay with me calling you when I get home?” Louis implores, stepping away.   
“Yeah, that would be perfect, Lou. I would love it.” Harry answers, eyes lighting up.   
“Then, I’ll call you as soon as I get home.”  
“Let me walk you out.” Harry answers, hooking his little finger with Louis’s, like he used to. Louis smiles to himself as he looks at their hands, walking to the door with Harry. “This was good.” Harry announces as he opens the door. Louis nods his agreement, bodies much too close in the entryway.   
“So good, Harry. I’ve missed this so much.”   
“Me, too, Lou.”  
“I love you, Haz.”  
“I love you, too, Lou.” Harry answers, pressing a kiss to Louis’s cheek. “Call me when you get home, yeah?”  
“Promise.” Louis answers, slowly stepping away. He waves at Harry, not wanting to leave him, again.   
“I’m holding you to it, Tomlinson.” Harry shouts as Louis is opening his car door.   
“Count on it, Styles.” Louis calls out, swallowing passed the lump in his throat as he starts up the car to drive away from his boy.   
He calls Liam as he waits at a stop light, needing to unload all of this emotion.   
“What is it, Tommo?”  
“He sent me home.”  
“Like I said, he needs you to be patient.”  
“He told me that, but he asked me to call when I got home. Fuck, I miss him already.”   
“It’s going to be hard, Louis. Let me ask you something.”  
“Okay.”  
“You love him?”  
“You know I do.”  
“Then, this will all be worth it.”   
“Harry is worth everything.”   
“We’ll be good, then. Just take things at his pace.”   
“Yeah, yeah, alright. I gotta go, I’m pulling up to my place, now.”   
“Alright, talk later.”   
He groans as he rests his head against the steering wheel before climbing out to walk into his house, suddenly feeling like it’s not home. It feels cold and lonely here. He walks into his room, turning on the lights as he raises his phone back to his ear, waiting for Harry to answer.  
“Lou.” Harry breathes into the receiver, causing a shiver to rip through Louis’s body.   
“Hey, there, Curly. I’m home, now.”   
“I miss you, already.” Harry mutters, breathing heavy.   
“Likewise. What are you doing, now, love?”  
“Taking a bath. Needed it after you left, real tense, you know?” His tone suggests that tense isn’t the word he was looking for.   
“Fucking hell, do I.” He responds, peeling his jeans off. Harry chuckles, deep and raspy.   
“What about you?”  
“Getting naked to climb into bed.” Louis teases, chuckling when he hears Harry’s breath hitch.  
“Tease.”  
“Mm, gotta get you to cave somehow.”   
“Mean.”   
“Do you only know one syllable words, now, Harold?”   
“I, currently, have no blood flowing to my brain, sue me.” Harry jokes, pulling a cackle from Louis.   
“Alright, then, well. I am, actually, naked. I was going to shower before bed.” Louis remarks, relishing in the small whine that leaves Harry’s lips.   
“Hmm, alright, Lou.”  
“I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?”  
“Wait, Lou?”  
“Yeah, baby?”  
“Can you come over, again, tomorrow?” He asks, voice small, and Louis is sure that his heart isn’t even in his chest, anymore.   
“Is that what you want?” Louis queries.  
“Yes, that’s what I want.”   
“Then, I’ll be there bright and early, Haz.” Louis replies, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.   
“Promise?”   
“Yeah, I promise, baby.”   
“Okay. Uh, I’ll let you take your shower.”   
“Don’t sound so sad, Harry. I promise you, I will be there just as early as I was today, if not earlier.”   
“Alright.”  
“Alright. Good night, Curly.”  
“Good night, Lou.” And just as he is about to end the call he hears, “Lou, wait!”  
“Yes?”  
“I love you.”   
“I love you, too.” Then, they hang up, and now Louis is sure that his heart doesn’t reside in his chest, anymore. No, it’s in the hands of a certain man named Harry Styles.   
He steps into the shower, sighing as the hot water cascades down his body, thoughts never straying from Harry and the way he tastes. He feels himself grow harder the more he thinks of him; the way Harry whimpered against his lips when Louis tugged on his hair, the way he ground his hips into Louis’s, how he looked when he pulled away from him, and just like that, Louis’s seed paints the wall.   
“Fucking hell.” He breathes out as he rests his head against the wall. After a few moments, he actually showers before stepping out and falling face first into his bed. He falls asleep moments later, Harry’s beautiful face behind his eyes.   
“Lou, please, please—fuck, please.” Harry begs, pliant beneath Louis. His face screwed up in pleasure, his chest and cheeks rosy, his lips bitten red. Louis tugs Harry’s hair, biting down on his neck.   
“What do you need, baby?” He moans against the skin of Harry’s neck.   
“Need to come, please. Lou, oh fuck.” He moans, digging his nails down Louis’s back, sure to leave marks.   
“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. So perfect, Harry, so beautiful.” He moans, his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Harry, fuck, fuck, fuck.” He moans at the same time that Harry is painting his stomach.   
“Oh fuck.” Louis gasps out, sitting up. He is breathless and sweaty as he falls back against his pillows, groaning at his painfully hard erection. “What the fuck am I, 18 again?” He groans at himself, picking his phone up to check the time. He groans, again, when the time reads 6:30 AM. “Fuck no.” he says to himself, forcing himself to go back to sleep for another couple of hours.   
When he wakes up later, he has multiple texts from Harry.   
Harry: Morning Lou :)  
Harry: it’s really early, so you’re probably still asleep.  
Harry: I miss you.  
Louis can’t help the smile that splits his face and his heart lodges itself in his throat. Rather than texting him back, he calls, too excited to hear Harry’s voice.   
“Morning Lou.” Harry answers and Louis doesn’t even need to see his face to know that he’s smiling.   
“Morning, there, Curly.”  
“Did you sleep good?”   
“Pretty good, yeah. A certain fit lad wouldn’t leave me dreams alone, though. Begging me to let him come and what not.” Louis teases. He laughs when Harry chokes on whatever he was drinking.  
“Jesus. You should really chat with him about that.”   
“I am right now. Hey, man, that wasn’t cool. Stay out of my dreams, Harold.” He jokes, pulling a chuckle from Harry.   
“I could say the same to you.” Harry flirts.  
“Is that right?”   
“Yes, sir, it is.”   
“OI, enough of the phone sex and just get over here already, Tommo!” Niall shouts from the background. Louis laughs with Harry, turning his phone on speaker so that he could get dressed.   
“Alright, love. I’m getting dressed, I’ll be over soon, yeah?”   
“With tea?”   
“Do you want tea?”  
“Please?”   
“Then, I’ll be over with tea.”  
“Thank you, Lou. See you when you get here.”  
“Yeah, see you. I love you.”  
“I love you, too.” And with that, they end the call, a knot forming in the bottom of Louis’s stomach and the butterflies in his stomach causing a racket. He gets to see his boy, again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Louis part in this chapter, sorry. In all honesty, i forgot to add it. Also, WARNING, some light smut ahead.

Harry  
Harry can’t help the smile that is on his face when he gets off of the phone with Louis. It all feels so natural and perfect. He’s going to see his Louis, again. He throws a pillow at Niall when he spots the smirk on his face.   
“Oh, piss off.”   
“So, you’re telling me that you and Lou didn’t fuck last night?” Niall asks, leaning back in his seat.  
“No, we didn’t.”   
“And you sent him home?”   
“I did.”  
“But he’s coming back here today?”   
“He is.” Harry answers with a smile. Niall shakes his head, a smile on his face.   
“It’s good to see you happy, again, Haz.”   
“Feels good.” Harry answers, his heart leaping into his throat when his doorbell rings. He looks to Niall and he knows that he is positively glowing.   
“What are you waiting for, go answer.” Niall tells him. Harry nods his head, trying not to run over to the door. When he opens the door, the breath is knocked out of him. Louis is wearing a black mock-neck and black jeans with vans, looking absolutely edible.   
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s rude to stare, Harold?” Louis teases, making Harry blush.   
“You just—you look beautiful.” Harry says to his feet. Louis steps forward, crouching beneath Harry to capture his lips in a kiss that was meant to be sweet but turns into something much hotter. Harry sighs into Louis’s mouth, pulling away, breathless.  
“Been wanting to do that since I left you last night.” Louis tells him, kissing his cheek. “You look good, too, love.”   
“Come inside.” Harry demands, tugging him into the house.   
“Here’s your tea.” Louis tells him, handing him a cup.   
“Thanks, Lou.” He says, sipping the hot beverage. Louis leans in and kisses his cheek, again. He slips his hand into Harry’s, lacing their fingers together. Niall has that same fucking smirk on his face when they walk in with their hands entwined. Harry hides behind his cup as the blush colors his face.   
“Have you eaten, Lou?” He asks, breath caught in his throat at their proximity.   
“Yeah, baby, I ate when I picked up your tea.” Louis responds and by the way he’s looking at Harry, he’s just as effected by their closeness. Harry’s eyes are on Louis’s mouth and he can feel Louis’s gaze is on his. “How was your bath last night?” Louis asks, smirking. Harry chuckles, rolling his eyes.  
“Would’ve been better if you were there.”   
“Enough of that! I’m here, too, for fuck’s sake!” Niall calls from his position in the arm chair. Harry laughs, standing and sitting in his lap.   
“Aw, Nialler, are you jealous?!” Harry teases, cupping Niall’s cheeks.   
“Yeah, now give me a kiss, too.” Niall jokes, puckering his lips. Harry shoves his face away from him, laughing as he stands to take his seat back beside Louis. One look at Louis is all it takes to know that he’s pissed. “Oh, come off it, Tommo, we were kidding. No need to get your panties in a twist, yeah?” Niall says, rolling his eyes.   
“Is that what’s been goin’ on with you two these past 4 years?” Louis pouts.  
“No, Lou.” Harry responds, annoyance flaring inside his chest. “You have no place to be jealous.” He opines, standing and storming to the back patio to cool off. He’s sitting outside for 5 minutes before Louis joins him, sighing as Louis takes his hand.   
“I’m sorry, Haz.”   
“You should be. Niall was here for me while I was trying to move on.”  
“I know. It was some stupid and irrational jealousy. I’m sorry.”  
“You don’t have to be jealous of Niall. You don’t have to be jealous of anyone. I already told you that I couldn’t move on.”   
“Jealousy isn’t rational, babe. I can’t control it.” Louis states, taking his hand away to answer his phone. “Yeah, El?” he answers, and the flare of jealousy in Harry’s chest confirms Louis’s statement. Harry feels hot all over, unable to stop his eyes from watering as he listens to Louis’s side of the conversation. “Yeah, El, I already told you that we would. We always go up to see the family for the holidays.” Harry clenches his teeth as he stands to walk back into the house.   
“Hey, Haz, what is it?” Niall asks, following Harry to the kitchen. Harry, simply, shakes his head.   
“I just need a minute.” Harry responds, walking to his room and closing the door. He sits on the edge of his bed, head in his hands as he scolds himself. Why didn’t you make him go slower, why are you letting it move as though no time has passed, you’re a fucking idiot, he thinks to himself.  
“Harry?” Louis calls from the other side of the bedroom door. Harry sighs, digging his nails into his palms before calling out that he can come in. “What is it?” Louis ponders, taking a seat beside Harry.   
“Sounds like a pretty real relationship for it being a contract, Lou.” Harry laments, looking down at his hands. Louis places his hand on Harry’s knee, squeezing gently, before Harry pushes his hand away. “Just—I don’t think you should touch me.”   
“What?”   
“Like you said, jealousy isn’t rational, but mine is. You’re with her when you should be with me.” Harry rushes out, standing up and beginning to pace.   
“Alright, Harry, go on. Get it all off of your chest.” Louis tells him, nodding his head.  
“The problem here, Lou, is that you’re all I think about—all I’ve thought about—since I met you. You’re all I dream about and you haven’t been here in years, Lou! And I don’t know why I thought that I could do this, but I can’t fucking do this, Lou. I can’t, I don’t fucking—” Harry rushes out becoming breathless, his tears spilling against his wishes. Louis stands, taking Harry’s face in between his hands and pressing his lips to Harry’s. Harry melts into the touch, letting himself become absorbed in Louis, Louis, Louis.   
“I’m here, Harry. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere this time. Yes, I’m still forced to be with El, but you’re the one that I want.” Louis breathes out, his breath washing over Harry’s face.   
“You should stop touching me.” Harry whispers, eyes closed. “We need to start over.”   
“What do you mean?”  
“Friends, Lou. Until you and Eleanor are over, I need us to stay friends.” Harry chokes out; this isn’t what he wants at all, but he needs it to be that way. Louis clears his throat as he takes a step away, nodding while keeping his eyes trained on the floor.  
“Right. Friends.”  
“Can you do friends, Lou?” Harry asks, pressing his lips together, tasting his tears.  
“If that’s the only way that I can have you, then it’s what I’ll take.”   
“Thank you.” Harry breathes out, running his hands through his hair. Louis points towards the bedroom door, slowly backing away.  
“I’m gonna go play some FIFA with Niall, then. I can’t stay in this room with you and not be able to touch you how I want, so, yeah.” Louis rambles, walking out. Harry sits back on the edge of the bed, giving himself a few more minutes to cry about the man that he wants more than anything but can’t have; this, he’s used to; this, he knows how to deal with.   
Harry comes out of his room a handful of minutes later, very aware that his face is too red and his eyes probably match. He takes a seat next to Niall, not caring about the fact that he’s sitting on the floor when there’s the entire couch to sit on. Niall pats him on the shoulder, squeezing reassuringly before looking accusingly at Louis.   
“So, I should probably go, yeah?” Louis pipes up, sighing as he looks down at Harry, pain written all over his features.   
“I don’t want you to.” Harry mutters, looking down at his fingers.   
“But we should probably distance ourselves if we’re only going to be friends, right?”   
“Niall and I are just friends and we spend every day together.” Harry throws out, pain lancing through his heart at the idea of Louis leaving so soon.   
“But you’ve never been in love with each other, have you?” Louis asks, eyes darting between the two of them. Harry sighs, resting his head against Niall’s knee.  
“You know that I’ve only been in love with you. As hard as I try to change that, I can’t.”   
“You want to be in love with someone else?” Louis asks, the pain evident in his voice.   
“It would be a lot easier and a hell of a lot less painful. Lou, being in love with someone that you can’t have is really hard.”   
“But you do have me.”   
“No, Eleanor does.”  
“Lou, you know how jealous Harry is. Do you really think that he’d be fine with a few late-night fucks and having to see you with El everywhere?” Niall pipes in, protective of Harry as he rests a hand on his shoulder.   
“But I’d always come back to him.”  
“But I’d still have to share you.”  
“So, are you saying that you’re still going to actively try to move on?” Louis interrogates, leaning forward with his hands balled into fists.  
“Shouldn’t he? You’re still with El.” Niall suggests.  
“For the foreseeable future, right Lou?” Harry inquires, his heart choking him, lodged in his esophagus.   
“Right.” Louis answers, standing from where he’s sat on the couch. “I’m leaving.” He shorts. Harry scrambles to his feet, quick to try and make it right, his heart threatening to shatter all over again.   
“Lou, wait, please, just—”  
“What, Harry?” he snaps, turning on him. Harry frowns at the glossiness in Louis’s eyes.   
“You’re upset.”  
“No fucking shit. You just told me that you would be looking for someone to fall in love with that isn’t me, how am I supposed to not be upset?”   
“You’re unavailable, Lou. Am I just supposed to stay lonely?”   
“It’s not real! Whatever person that you find, your relationship would be!” Louis shouts, becoming breathless. Harry reaches out for him, needing to touch him.   
“Lou, just—let’s talk, please. Come with me.” Harry pleads, not liking where this is going. No, this isn’t right, no, I just got him back, Harry begins to internally panic.   
“No, Harry. I can’t be around knowing that you’re going to be fucking other people, knowing that someone else will be kissing you, touching you, making you come undone. I can’t. It’s either you take me as is or I’m really walking away.” Louis threatens, breaking Harry’s heart more than he thought was possible. Harry finds himself shaking his head furiously, becoming dizzy with it. He feels like he’s 17 all over, again; hearing Louis say that they should stop seeing each other, that he’s met someone and she’s lovely, that he wants to see where their relationship goes, that they have something real.   
***  
“Hey, Boo; what’d you want to talk about?” Harry asks, grin set in place as he looks into his favorite pair of eyes.  
“Hey, Haz. We need to talk.” Louis starts, taking Harry’s hand and gently pulling him to sit beside him.   
“That sounds ominous.” Harry chuckles, nervously. Louis moves away from him, putting an entire couch cushion between them as he starts to fiddle with his fingers. Why won’t he look at me, Harry wonders. “Lou, you’re scaring me; just spit it out.” Harry spits, his heart spiking, sweat starting to prickle his skin.   
“I hate that this happened, Haz. I wish it didn’t, but—”  
“Did you cheat on me?” Harry whispers, swallowing thickly.   
“No, but I may as well have, love. You see, I’ve—I met someone.” Louis still hasn’t looked at Harry throughout his whole speech. Harry’s mind is swimming, his heart is shattering and his lungs seem to have forgotten their function. This has to be some kind of cruel joke, right; Harry feels himself begin to panic.   
“You met someone? What does that even mean? We meet people every day.”   
“She’s really lovely, Haz. We’ve been talking for a few months and it was just a friendship at first, but Harry, she makes me feel alive. I think that—”  
“She makes you feel alive? This is a joke, right?” Harry scoffs out; he’s leaving me for a woman? Harry feels sick; he’s certain that he’s going to lose the contents of his stomach any second now.   
“No, Harry, I never wanted to hurt you; you have to believe that. It’s just—I feel like this is real and it could really go somewhere, you know?”   
“I thought I did.” Harry stands, not wanting to let him see him break.   
“Hey, Lou; ready to go?” A girl with long brown hair asks, a smile on her face as she loops her arm around his Louis. Harry feels weak as the tears spill down his cheeks. All he sees is Louis with that girl; all he hears are the words, 'this is real and it could go somewhere'.   
“Harry, what happened?” Zayn asks, worry creasing his perfect brows.   
“Go ask Louis.” Harry spits, pushing outside to get some fresh air in his lungs, to breathe air that hasn’t been exhaled by Louis just yet. Zayn taps Harry on the shoulder and hands him a pair of sunglasses, a look of worry on his face that turns into disappointment the moment that Louis walks out with her. I thought what we had was real, I thought we were going somewhere; Harry thinks as he watches Louis walk away from him.   
***

“Don’t leave me.” Harry whispers, unable to use his voice, not knowing where to find it. Louis presses his lips together, shrugging his shoulders in a noncommittal way.   
“Then, decide.”   
“I—Lou, I can’t. How do you expect me to sit around and be okay knowing that you’re always with her when you’re not with me? That you’ll be kissing her?” Harry rushes out, hyperventilating by now, shaking.   
“But it’s not real. It’s all for show.”   
“Louis, I love you.” Harry chokes out, his breath stuttering.   
“I love you, too, Harry, so fucking much. But you have to choose.”   
Harry sighs, not caring that he’s crumbling all over again in front of the very man that made him crumble the first time. He’s passed the point of no return, willing to do whatever Louis asks of him. Ready to give him his all.   
“I’ll always wait for you.” Harry chokes out, looking down at his fingers. Niall comes in and steps between them, looking the most serious that Harry has ever seen him.  
“Not this time, Tommo. I’m sorry, but I’ve seen Harry like this for far too long, so you’re the one choosing.” Niall alleges, standing protectively in front of Harry.   
“I love him, but I don’t have a choice.”   
“But you have the choice to be a cheater?”   
“He’s not, Niall.” Harry whispers, unable to look at either of them as he breaks the tension. Niall turns to look at Harry, his demeanor shifting to something much softer. “It’s a contract. The management made him do it.” Harry reveals. Niall sighs, wrapping Harry in a Classic Niall/Bear Hug.   
“Why didn’t you tell me?”   
“I just found out, yesterday.”   
“Waiting for him, is it what you want?” Niall asks, making Harry look into his blue eyes. Harry takes a deep breath, looking over Niall’s shoulder at Louis.  
“If it’s the only way that I can have him, yes.” Harry answers, truthfully; Louis, visibly, relaxes. Harry walks passed Niall and envelops Louis in an embrace so tight that he’s sure that Louis can’t breathe anymore, but he’s not complaining. Louis rests his face in Harry’s neck, kissing softly at his pulse point.   
“I love you, Harry. I promise that I’ll find a way out of this as quickly as I possibly can so that we can really be together.” Louis whispers into his neck.   
“As long as you’re mine, Lou.” Harry whispers to him, pulling back to look into his eyes.  
“Fuck being friends.” Louis groans, cupping Harry’s jaw and pressing their lips together, harsh, hurried.   
“And that’s my cue to go back to the living room.” Niall says, leaving them. Harry grips Louis’s hips, pulling him towards his bedroom, lips never detaching for long.   
“Fuck, I missed you.” Harry gasps into Louis’s mouth. Louis’s hands are working their way under Harry’s shirt, groaning as he traces his hands over Harry’s torso.   
“Off, take this off, now.” Louis breathes, working on the buttons of Harry’s shirt; Harry is quick to comply, flying through all of the buttons before letting it fall off of his shoulders.   
“Your turn.” Harry breathes, looking into Louis’s eyes. Louis never takes his eyes off of Harry, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor before stepping closer to Harry and pulling his mouth back to his own. Harry moans into the kiss, Louis capturing the sounds in his own mouth. Louis slides his hands down Harry’s torso, stopping at his waist band, slowly popping the button undone. Harry watches his every movement through cloudy eyes, breathless and lusty. Louis sinks to his knees to pull the pants off of Harry, licking his lips to find that Harry has nothing beneath the pants.   
“Always one to avoid boxers, hm?” Louis asks, leaning forward to press open-mouthed kisses to Harry’s hips.   
“They’re uncomfortable.” Harry pants, carding his hands through Louis’s hair as he continues to lick and suck at Harry’s hip bones. Louis wraps his hand around Harry’s length, looking up at him through his lashes and with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.   
“Harry, I need you to tell me to stop.” Louis voices, his voice thick with lust.  
“Why?” Harry gasps, looking down at Louis.   
“Because I really want to suck you off, but you said you wanted to take things slow.” Louis announces and he can see the shock written all over Harry’s face.   
“I want that.” Harry moans, eyes rolling to the back of his head, muscles in his torso taut with the built-up tension, sweat already building up a dewy sheen over his face and neck.   
“Are you sure, baby? I don’t want you to regret anything.”   
“Louis, I’m sure about you, anything about you.” Harry breathes, his eyes fluttering open to look back at Louis.   
“That’s all the answer that I needed.” Louis replies. Louis leans forward and takes the tip into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks. Harry reaches down to press his thumb to Louis’s lips to feel how he fills up Louis’s mouth. Fuck, I’m already so close, fuck, Harry, think of anything to keep from finishing early, Harry thinks to himself. His mouth is Godly, fuck, and now he’s looking at me and he looks so fucking gorgeous, damn, he gasps while his mind races.   
“Lou, I don’t think I can last.” Harry gasps, eyes squeezing shut at the heat already building in his lower abdomen, his orgasm racing to the finish line as Louis takes him all the way down his throat. The only sounds that can be heard in the room are the sounds of Louis swallowing Harry down his throat repeatedly and Harry’s moans and praises.   
“Come, Harry. I want to taste you.” Louis orders, his voice raspy, fucked raw.   
“Oh, fucking hell.” Harry groans, his orgasm blinding him, making everything fuzzy, all sound filtering like static in his ears. “God, you’re amazing.” Harry moans, looking into Louis’s eyes.   
“If I’m so amazing, how do you keep forgetting my name?” Louis jests.   
“Oh, for the love of—get over here.” Harry tugs Louis up to him, crashing their lips together, tasting himself on Louis’s tongue. Harry makes an appreciative noise in the back of his throat, tugging him closer by his hips. “Take these off, I need them gone. Like, yesterday.” Harry groans, gesturing to Louis’s jeans.   
“Alright, alright, get your big paws away, I’ve got it, love.” Louis teases, kissing Harry as he works to pull his jeans down his legs. Harry sinks to his knees as soon as he can, grasping Louis in his hand, pumping him as he watches the pleasure cross Louis’s face.   
“Always so beautiful Lou.” Harry praises, kitten licking the tip, collecting the drops of pre-come, humming and his eyes closing in pleasure as the bitter taste hits his tongue. Harry takes Louis down his throat, swallowing around him, already fully hard as he gags around him.   
“Fuck, Harry, so, so good, baby.” Louis pants out, taking a handful of Harry’s hair in his hand and tugging while Harry continues to work Louis with his mouth. The only sounds in the room are the sounds of Harry gagging and Louis’s breathless praises as he silently finishes down Harry’s throat. Harry closes his eyes in bliss, swallowing every last drop, opening his mouth when he’s done to show Louis. “Shit.” Louis gasps out.   
“So much for taking it slow.” Harry comments, voice fucked raw.   
“That was slow; we didn’t fuck, so it still counts.” Louis jokes, still breathless as he works his jeans back up.   
“Are you leaving, now?” Harry asks, wary.   
“Do you want me to?”  
“If it were up to me, you would never leave.”   
“Then, I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out, love.” Louis reassures, pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s lips. “I’m going out to the kitchen; I need a drink.”   
“I’ll be right out.” Harry announces as Louis walks away. Please, let us work out this time, he thinks to himself as he pulls his own pants back up his legs.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting the chapter with Louis's POV to make up for forgetting to write his into the previous chapter!

Louis  
He spent the night with Harry that night. Nothing more than a few touches happened, despite Louis’s best wishes, but he wouldn’t want it any other way. Waking up next to his boy, again, after all this time, it was a dream itself. Getting to witness his boy’s sleepy grin as he stretched and mussed his own hair up further, it was everything and more.   
“Morning, Lou.” Harry groans as he stretches.   
“Morning, indeed, looks like someone else is happy to see me, too.” Louis jokes to deflect any attention from the butterflies in his stomach.   
“Always is.” Harry replies, smirking over his shoulder at Louis as he stands. “I’m going to shower; do you want to join?” He asks, chewing on his sleep plump lip.   
“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Louis responds, climbing over to Harry. He grasps Harry’s hand in his own, pressing a kiss to the back of it as they walk to Harry’s extravagant en suite. Louis moves in to kiss him, but Harry turns his face away, covering his lips.   
“Morning breath.” He explains, bashful.  
“Yours or mine?” Louis teases.   
“Both?” Harry jests, moving around Louis to brush his teeth. Louis turns to the shower and starts it up, watching Harry in the mirror.   
“How do you make oral hygiene look so attractive?” Louis jokes. Harry smiles around his toothbrush, shaking his head. “Hurry up or I’m starting without you.” He threatens. Harry narrows his eyes at him which only rewards him with Louis’s loud laugh bouncing off the tile of the shower.   
“Louis!” Harry whines, dragging out each syllable of his name.   
“Come on, then.” Louis rushes, tugging Harry into the shower with him to, instantly, assault Harry’s mouth with his own. “Is this okay?” he asks, pulling away to stroke away the droplets of water that are spattering against Harry’s cheeks and jaw. Louis takes notice of Harry’s ragged breathing, the stuttering rise and fall of his shoulders at Louis’s touch.   
“I think we should slow down, Lou.” Harry breathes, closing his eyes at the brush of Louis’s fingertips to his lips.   
“Then, we’ll slow down, darling.” Louis reassures, pecking Harry’s lips before he steps away.  
“I’ll go get started on breakfast, then, love.” Harry states, kissing Louis once more before exiting the shower to drape a towel around his waist. Louis watches as Harry disappears into the bedroom, towel hung obscenely on his waist before he starts on his shower with a groan. Slow, Louis, he needs slow, he prompts his brain into thinking. He takes longer than necessary in the shower, aggressively scrubbing his skin to remove the scent of lust that clings to him and continues to leak out of his pores. As he steps out, scrubbing his hair dry, he argues with himself, repeating the mantra, ‘he needs slow’ in his mind as he makes his way down the stretch of hallway. His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of Harry’s voice.   
“No, nothing like that.” Harry says, a smile breaking across his face as he catches sight of a fresh-faced Louis emerging out of the hall. Louis takes a seat at the breakfast bar, elbows resting against the counter.   
“I love you, too, Mitch Rowland.” Harry says around a chuckle. Louis doesn’t want to feel jealous, really, but he can’t stop it once the faucet has been turned on. He feels it simmering low under his skin as he watches the smile that never leaves Harry’s face, as he hears each chuckle that could be the best piece of music known to man; he just can’t help it. Even as he watches Harry’s smile morph into one of complete adoration while Harry pours piping hot water into a mug for him, he can’t stop the envy from coloring his blood green.  
“Next week, for sure.” Harry responds, dunking the tea bag into the steaming mug to allow it to steep. Louis focuses on every movement that Harry does, trying to distract himself from the emerald green fire that is roaring in his stomach. Witnessing the way that the muscles in his back contract with every little movement, how his triceps pop with the slightest extension, the slight hunch in his back from when he was a paper boy. “Alright, talk to you later.” Harry says in farewell. Harry is beaming at Louis like Louis is the goddamn sun as he turns to hand him his mug.   
“Who was it?” Louis finds tumbling out of his mouth, accepting the tea from Harry’s large hands.   
“Mitch. Asking when I was heading back to LA.” Harry informs him, setting the plate of food in front of Louis—who is struggling with his bubbling envy that he refuses to let Harry see.   
“You’re going next week?” Louis asks, tone apprehensive with just a dash of sadness. Harry takes a seat beside Louis, humming his answer. “When?”  
“Leaving on Monday.” Harry reveals, taking a sip of his coffee. Louis takes a sip of his tea to aid in swallowing down the anxiety that is bubbling in the back of his throat and he begins to wonder if Harry is doing the same.   
“I’ll miss you.” Louis remarks, voice small.   
“I’ll miss you, too, Lou.” Harry replies, resting a hand on Louis’s knee. “We can Skype, though.” Harry posits, squeezing his knee and Louis entertains the idea that Harry knows that Louis’s heart is fluttering behind his ribs like a hummingbird.   
“Yeah, that sounds good, love.” Louis’s mouth is saying, but his tone and face are sad; a wrinkle in his brow, the corners of his mouth downturned into a frown, his eyes refusing to meet Harry’s, in fear that Harry will be able to read all of the pain there.  
“Lou?” Harry vocalizes, worry creasing his brow. I won’t let you slip through my fingers, again, Harry, Louis swears.   
“Better make the most of the rest of this week, then, yeah?” Louis presumes, finally looking at Harry. There’s still an air of sadness that is swirling around them, wrapping around them like a blanket, but there’s a twinkle of hope shining behind his cerulean eyes that he can see reflected in Harry’s sea glass pair.  
“I like the sound of that.” Harry mutters, pressing his lips together to force his smile back, afraid that it would crack his face. Louis wishes that Harry would smile every minute of every day, thinks that his smile could light up the world, but he stays quiet.  
“Thanks so much for breakfast, love; it was lovely, but I need to go for a change of clothes.” Louis announces as he stands from his seat to wash his dishes, fear sitting on top of his stomach at being away from Harry; fear that this could be the last time he sees him, that this could be the only time that he sees Harry is threatening to choke him.   
“Will you be back?” Harry beseeches, filling Louis’s heart to the brim with love. Louis turns to him, a fond smile dancing on his lips and he can feel his eyes twinkling in only the way that Harry can cause. He cups Harry’s face with gentle hands and kisses his heart-shaped mouth, softly.  
“Yes, darling, I will be back.” Louis promises, voice soft and syrupy and everything that Louis is not.   
“Okay, good.” Harry says on a breath and Louis thinks his voice is like a warm cashmere sweater as he gets lost in Harry’s hypnotic jade eyes.   
“I told you, Curly, nothing can keep me away from you. Now, that I’ve got you back, I refuse to let you go.” Louis asseverates, hoping that his words soothe Harry; prays that Harry can feel them embracing him with arms that are strong and sure.   
“Then, I’ll see you when I see you.” Harry whispers, staring at Louis as though he might disappear like the sun does at night.  
“Won’t be long, darling. Just going for a change of clothes.”   
“I’ll be in the shower.”   
“So, I’ll be back before you get out.” Louis teases as they walk to the door. Harry shoves at his shoulder, jestingly as they reach the door.   
“I love you, Lou.” Harry mutters and Louis is sure that the galaxies have exploded as he watches the blinding smile that breaks across Harry’s face.   
“I love you, too, my Curly boy.” Louis replies, cupping Harry’s jaw before planting his lips against Harry’s, loving the way that Harry’s stubble scratches against his own and leaves behind a delicious burn in its wake. 

***

Harry  
Harry is sure that there are sunflowers blooming in his heart. Long after Louis has driven away, Harry still finds himself in a daze, almost drunk off the lingering feel of Louis’s soft lips, the feel of Louis’s stubble against his own face. He makes his way to his bathroom, albeit dazedly, with a soft smile still on his face that he isn’t aware of until he sees his reflection in the mirror. Breathe, Harry, take it slow, he tries to remind his pugnacious heart, but as soon as he spots a note on his countertop, written in Louis’s sloppy scrawl, all rational thought flies out the window. ‘It was always you, Curly.’ Those five words imbed themselves into Harry’s heart and float around his brain until they’re the only words that Harry can even think of the whole time he’s in his shower.  
As promised, Louis is there after Harry gets out of the shower, perched on his couch with a book in his hand. Harry feels his heart in his throat, strangling him in such a way that Harry wouldn’t mind if it happened again. “Told you that I’d be back before you got out.” Louis jests, smirking over his shoulder at Harry, causing his heart to seize up in the most pleasant of ways.   
“Hush, you. What’re you reading?” Harry asks, plopping himself besides Louis, head resting against his shoulder. Louis raises the book up for Harry to get a glimpse of the cover; In Watermelon Sugar by Richard Brautigan.   
“Weird lad, isn’t he?” Louis remarks, setting the book back on the coffee table where it had been sitting this morning. “So, what sort of mischief do you want to get into today, Curly?” Louis asks, turning his face to look at Harry and Harry feels like he’s never going to be able to breathe again but he is okay with that if it means that Louis always looks at him the way he’s looking at him right now; looking at him with excitement in his eyes, with love and adoration making those same eyes glitter and sparkle more beautiful than any stars that Harry’s seen, with a small smile on those lips that Harry wants to feel against his own for the rest of his days and with pink kissed cheeks.   
“Want to go for a swim?” Harry asks, eyes tracing every part of Louis’s face with an invisible paint brush.   
“A swim? Are you mad; it’s the middle of winter, Harry.” Louis remarks, laughter in his eyes as he openly laughs at Harry.   
“Gives us reason to warm each other up.” Harry jibes, pulling a loud laugh from the back of Louis’s throat and now there are butterflies in Harry’s stomach because, wow, Louis is so beautiful; head thrown back in laughter, eyes crinkling adorably as he squeezes his eyes shut and his cheeks burning an even brighter shade of pink.   
They spend the day watching movies, wrapped in each other’s arms with a blanket wrapped around them both, sharing each other’s body warmth until they both fall asleep. When Harry wakes, it’s to the sound of Louis’s chest rumbling underneath his cheek as he speaks.   
“We’ll go next week.” He’s saying and there’s that pesky jealousy, because Harry knows who that is on the other line. “Harry is going to be in LA, so I won’t be able t—excuse you, this isn’t a real relationship; nowhere in the fucking contract does it say that I’m not allowed to be with him behind closed doors.” Louis snaps, his breathing is rapid with his increasing irritation. “That’s not my fault, I never told you that this was a real relationship. That’s too bad, isn’t it?” he quips, becoming breathless. “Look, I’m sorry that you got it into your head that we’re a real couple, but this whole thing was a farce. I love Harry and that’s that. I’ll see you Monday.” He ends the call, breathless and his hands shake as he rests them against Harry’s lower back. He places his face in Harry’s hair, inhaling deeply and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Fucking hell.” He sighs. Harry adjusts so that he is looking up at Louis, trying to read his eyes.   
“Are you okay?” he asks, fingertips of his right hand tracing the words on Louis’s chest; ‘It is what it is’.   
“Yeah, just a little irritated, love.” Louis shares, offering a small smile.   
“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry questions, watching his fingers brushing through the light smattering of hair on Louis’s chest.   
“El was under the impression that we became a real couple over the years; had to set her straight.” He summarizes. Harry chokes at that, heart beating violently to take a hold of Louis and envelop him within its chambers and ventricles.   
“Oh?” is all that Harry can get out.  
“Don’t worry, love. I told her that I love you and that I was sorry that she had gotten the wrong impression.” Louis reassures, rubbing Harry’s back with caresses that feel like a summer breeze.   
“I love you, too, Lou.” Harry replies through a bitten bottom lip. Louis’s hand comes up to scratch at the stubble lining Harry’s jaw, a soft smile dancing across his lips as he leans down for a kiss.   
“You’re not that baby-faced 16-year-old that I fell in love with, are you?” Louis observes.   
“I feel like that 16-year-old boy when I’m with you.” Harry confesses, a blush staining his cheeks as he gets lost in Louis’s sea blues.  
“No, baby, you’ve grown into a beautiful man. I want to know the Harry that you’ve become.” Louis whispers, lighting Harry’s insides in the most beautiful colors that man can see. He feels the fireworks exploding inside his body, a noticeable pop, pop, pop that happens in his heart at the love in Louis’s gaze. He becomes lost in the way the setting sun is alighting Louis’s already golden skin, making him even more gold and his eyes burn an even brighter blue that just ensnares Harry.   
“You still know me, Lou. I haven’t changed that much.” Harry whispers, afraid to shatter the painting that is this situation.   
“I want to know everything that I missed.” Louis whispers back, seeming to feel the same fear. So, Harry tells him; every little detail that he wants to know.   
“I saw a bakery in Rome a little while ago; the quaintest of places, looked like it was straight out of a novel.” He says at one point and feels the heat creep up his neck at Louis’s responding smile. He tells him things like, “I thought I could fly so I jumped out the window; turns out that I couldn’t.” Which makes Louis bark out a laugh and he laughs even harder when Harry sticks his tongue out to show him where he bit it. He tells him things like, “one day, I swear, one day, I will make Mitch laugh a real laugh. I swear it.” That he pretends he doesn’t notice the clench in Louis’s jaw. “I tried my hand at pottery, it came out horrendous, so I smashed it in a fit of rage.” “I lost my favorite corduroy flares, I’m still a bit torn up about that.” And all the while, Louis listens, diligently. Harry talks until his throat is dry and he needs a glass of water. Upon his return from the kitchen, Louis seems lost in thought; a wrinkle in his brow, his eyes cast downwards and his lips set in a thin line. “Lou?” he alerts, taking a seat beside him.   
“I’ve missed so much.”   
“You’re here now, though.”   
“You’re the same, but so different.” Louis observes, a sad smile on his face.   
“We have all the time in the world, now, Lou.” Harry assures, gripping his hand in his own. Louis grins a little wider, squeezing Harry’s hand.   
“Sure do, love.” Louis affirms, lifting Harry’s hand to his lips to place a soft kiss to the back of it, sending Harry’s heart skyrocketing into space to explore the cosmos. “Tell me more.” Louis urges. Harry tells him about the things that matter and shares a lot of things that mean nothing; things like, ‘I saw a tree shaped like a lady,’ and things like, ‘there was a lot of seaweed, Lou. I was digging seaweed out of my pants for days, it felt like!’, and then things that just made no sense, but he thought they were profound, such as, ‘isn’t it crazy that people change their appearances every day and we would never know?’ and Louis listens, diligently, attentively. Then they get to, ‘I was in a dark place, Lou, a real dark place when I wrote that,’ referring to ‘Falling’, which may or may not ping Harry’s heart to think about. But through the painful bits, Louis rests a comforting hand on Harry’s knee and squeezes reassuringly and everything feels right in the world. By the time they’re in bed, Harry is prattling on about a rock that looked like a fish and reminding him of the childhood book, Louis the Fish, which inspired his video for Adore You. “Which of course made me think of you.” He says around a yawn, eyelids beginning to droop.   
“Tell me more in the morning, Curly. For now, let’s sleep.” Louis sighs, just as sleepy.   
“Alright, Lou.” Harry hums his assent.   
“I love you, Harry.”  
“I love you so much more, Louis.” Harry avows, completely oblivious to the way those words jabbed at Louis’s heart.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, long chapter ahead, sorry loves, but it's good, i promise!

Louis  
The day of Harry’s departure to the sunny Los Angeles comes much sooner than Louis had been ready for. Time just flew; it seemed that in the blink of an eye, they were standing in the airport.   
“I’ll come see you and the family as soon as I’m done.” Harry promised, chewing on the inside of his cheek and fisting his hands by his sides. Louis’s own posture mimics Harry’s, desperate to hold onto him and never let him go, but knowing that he isn’t allowed.   
“Or I’ll come to you. Or I’ll die because I’ll miss you too much.” Louis exaggerates, heart thumping wildly at Harry’s sweet smile.   
“Always with the dramatics.” Harry teases, fingertips brushing against the back of Louis’s hand that Louis allows himself to believe is a small gesture that means Harry wishes for their hands to be clasped.   
“I did want to be an actor, but you got there before I could.” Louis jibes, sending his elbow into Harry’s ribs, lightly, jestingly. Harry blushes slightly; always the humble one.   
“I’ll call you every day, so much in fact, that you’ll be tired of me before I can even get to see you again.” Louis turns to face him, gazing into his meadow eyes and shakes his head.   
“I could never get tired of you, Curly.” Louis asseverates, wanting nothing more than to brush his fingers along the stubble that is growing on Harry’s jawline, wishing with all that he is that he could lean in and paint his lips against Harry’s own.   
“Promise?” Harry asks, voice small and reminding Louis very much of the way he’d said that same word on the top of the Eiffel Tower, shortly before Louis broke his heart.  
***  
Louis is a love sick fool; absolutely, nauseatingly love sick and there is nothing in the world that he would trade for it. He would rather dive right off the side of this world-renowned tower than to trade this feeling. As he watches Harry climb up the steps, his heart flutters. The chill in the air ruffling Harry’s curls and coloring the apples of his cheeks a sweet pink, his lips a beautiful shade of raspberry that Louis wants a taste of. Louis would rather sell his soul to Lucifer himself than to ever lose this feeling as he watches Harry rest his hands on the railing and look out at the city of Paris.   
“So beautiful, Lou.” Harry breathes, a puff of smoke swirling before him as the words leave his lips. Louis steps beside him, a gentle hand resting against Harry’s hip.   
“Yeah, you are.” Louis finds his mouth saying, and he would be embarrassed but the way that Harry’s cheeks flame a brighter red, wipes it away.   
“Sap.” Harry jests, hip checking Louis in a playful manner. Louis chuckles, nervously as he studies Harry’s profile. Wow, I am so gone for you, Louis thinks to himself.   
“I love you.” Louis says, his mouth moving without his permission again. He jerks back at his admission, gripping the railing and facing the City of Love instead of facing the rejection.   
“What?” Harry gasps, the one word getting lost in the air. Louis chuckles again, nervous.   
“It’s just that it’s Valentine’s Day and we’re in the City of Love; I don’t—” Louis begins rambling, but Harry’s firm grip on his arm stops him in his tracks.   
“Did you mean it?” Harry asks, hope dancing in those eyes that Louis always gets lost in.   
“Yes.” He admits.   
“Promise?” Harry asks, taking both of Louis’s hands in his, his own love and adoration shining back at Louis.   
“Forever, Curly.” Louis promises before Harry crushes Louis’s mouth against his.   
***  
“Lou?” Harry says, looking into Louis’s glazed over eyes.   
“Yeah, sorry. Got swept up in a memory.” Louis admits, taking a deep breath.   
“I love you, Lou.” Harry whispers, looking around them for anyone that could be eavesdropping.   
“I love you, too, Hazza. Call me when you land, yeah?” Louis requests, heart squeezing at the thought of not being with Harry.   
“I will.” Harry assures, shifting his weight foot to foot, clearly not wanting to depart.   
“Alright, get out of here or you’ll miss your flight.” Louis jests, lightly pushing Harry toward his gate.   
“Right. Say it again, Lou.” Harry requests, that same look in his eyes that he had on the Eiffel Tower.  
“I love you.” And Louis would say it a million more times right this second if he could see that look on Harry’s face forever; the way his teeth press into his pillow-y lower lip, how his happiness just radiates out of him, making him glow ethereally.   
“I love you.” He mouths back as he backs away from Louis and Louis swears that time began to crawl as he watched the love of his life walk away from him.   
Louis is going mad with how much he misses Harry on the drive over to Liam’s. He arrives, unannounced, and just barges in like he owns the place. He plops himself, unceremoniously, onto the couch, groaning as he does so.   
“I take it that this is because of Harry?” Liam states, sitting beside him.   
“Yes! He’s going to be gone for two whole weeks, Liam! Two whole weeks! This will be the longest that we’ve been apart since we started talking again!” Louis whines, much to Liam’s amusement.   
“Aren’t you supposed to be heading home with Eleanor?” Liam points out, earning an even louder groan.   
“Yes. I’d much rather be going home with Harry.” Louis pouts, wiping his hands down his face.   
“Yes, well, he has work to do, Lou. Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be working as well?” Liam jests, smirking at Louis in a way that Louis just wants to slap off.   
“You’re a real pain, you know that? Why did I come here for comfort when I know that you’re an arse?” Louis narrows his eyes at him, standing to leave but not before landing a swift punch to Liam’s gut on his way.  
“Dick.” Liam coughs around a chuckle.   
“Hm, yeah, well.” Louis shrugs, sashaying his way to the door.   
“Have a safe drive, you twat.” Liam says, wrapping him in a bear hug.   
“Yeah, I’ll let you know when I get home.” Louis promises, waving at him as he walks away. “Here goes. Two weeks with Eleanor.” He groans to himself as he starts up his car. The next groan that leaves his mouth is one filled with pain as he glances at his ringing phone. He wishes the picture that was flashing on his screen was Harry, but it’s not. “I’m heading home now; I still need to pack.” He answers, rolling his eyes so far that he fears he’ll be stuck staring at the inside of his skull for the remainder of his existence.   
“You haven’t packed yet?” she berates.   
“No, El, I haven’t. Now, maybe, if I got off the phone, I would be able to drive home and pack.” Louis quips, fighting the urge to groan again.   
“Are you with Harry?” she asks, voice small and quite pained.  
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. He already left for L.A.”   
“But you’ve been with him this whole time?”   
“I’ll see you when I get home.” He sighs.  
“Right.” She answers before hanging up. Louis can feel the pressure of a headache building in his temples, throbbing incessantly and he knows that this is going to be a long fourteen days without Harry. A long fourteen days with his pretend girlfriend. A long fourteen days that Harry could be second guessing his relationship with Louis.

***  
Harry  
Harry loves L.A., absolutely loves it. The sun is one of his favorite things, but he feels anything but sunny when he lands in California. He feels separated from himself, like he left himself back in London and all that’s here in this moment is his body. Until he pulls his phone out of his back pocket to find it’s flooded with texts from Louis.   
Lou: I know you won’t see this until you land but I wanted to tell you I love you.  
Lou: Two whole weeks without you, Curly. I’m going to go mad.  
Lou: I’m already losing my head.  
Lou: I just got home. The girls all say hi.  
Lou: I miss you so much, Harry.  
Lou: it’s a tad unhealthy how much I miss you.  
Harry smiles to himself, his heart threatening to beat its way out of his chest as he clicks the call icon under Louis’s name. He chews on his lip, bags in hand as he walks out to his car.   
“Lonely are we, Lou?” Harry asks as soon as Louis answers.   
“Just a tad. I miss you.” Louis breathes.   
“It’s late over there, yeah?” Harry asks, climbing into the back of the black SUV that is to take him to his Malibu home.   
“A little bit. I miss you; do you miss me?” Louis asks, voice much more vulnerable than Harry’s heard it in a long time.   
***  
“So, Haz, can I tell you something that only my mum knows?” Louis asks, a blush already staining his cheeks, his eyes are wild and nervous behind his glasses and he’s fidgeting endlessly.   
“Of course. You can tell me anything, Lou.” Harry assures him, taking his hands between both of his which causes Louis to blush deeper and his breathing to stutter.  
“Um, I—well, I’m—I don’t know if you can tell—”  
“You’re not straight.” Harry finishes, seeing where the conversation is headed. Louis’s eyes bulge out of his sockets, shock written all over his face as he nods his confirmation. “That’s okay, Lou. Wanna know a secret that’s not really a secret?” Harry asks, leaning towards him, conspiratorially. Louis nods furiously. “I’m not straight, either.” Harry whispers.   
“Well, Haz, that’s the other thing I wanted to talk about.” Louis whispers, chewing his bottom lip as he stares at their clasped hands.   
“Whenever you’re ready, Lou. There’s no rush.”   
“I like you.” Louis whispers, looking up at Harry. He likes me, Harry asks himself, shock and excitement pumping through his veins.   
“But aren’t you—”  
“We broke up. She knew that I liked you before I knew that I liked you.” Louis chuckles, breathless. “Um, so, how do you—do you feel the same?”   
“Well, I mean, I know I’m not ugly so I guess you could say that I like myself.” Harry teases, trying to break the tension. Louis rolls his eyes and shoves at Harry’s shoulder.   
“You know what I mean, you twat.” Louis chuckles.   
“Yeah, I do.” Harry admits.   
“Y-you do what?”  
“Feel the same. Have ever since I first saw you. A bit pathetic to be honest.” Harry confesses.  
***

“Obviously. I love you, Lou.” Harry sighs, resting his head against the back of his seat, closing his eyes and just listening to Louis breathe; each breath filling Harry’s entire being.   
“I love you so much, Curly.” Louis breathes. “How was your flight?” he asks.   
“It was a flight. I’m exhausted. Are you sleeping with Eleanor?” Harry can’t stop the words from rushing out of his mouth and he wishes he could.   
“No. She wanted to, but I pushed her out.”   
“Two weeks of Eleanor making passes at you.” Harry mumbles.   
“You have nothing to worry about, Curly.” Louis promises around the sound of a yawn.   
“Go on to sleep, Lou.” Harry whispers.   
“I’m not ready to. Will you just sit on the phone with me?” Louis requests, sending Harry’s heart soaring.   
“If that’s what you want.”   
“It’s what I want.” Louis whispers back.   
“Then, that’s what I’ll do.” Harry whispers, pressing his lips together to stop himself from smiling too widely. It’s only a few more minutes until Harry hears Louis’s soft breaths deepen. He’s very reluctant to end the call, but once he arrives at his home, he needs a shower and to eat. He ends the call, sending Louis a text to wake up to.  
Harry: I’m sorry for ending the call, darling, but I needed to shower and eat. I love you, Lou. I’ll call you when I wake up.  
Upon waking up in the morning, Harry has breakfast and goes for a jog before calling Louis, yearning to see his face.   
“Well, good morning, Curly.” Louis greets, a soft smile on his face. Harry feels his heart fly all the way back to Louis in that moment.   
“Good evening to you, Lou.” Harry greets, a smirk on his face as he peels his sweaty t shirt off.   
“Went for a run?” Louis asks, his voice cracking as his eyes widen at the sight before him.  
“I did. Just about to hop in the shower.” Harry answers, lying his phone on the counter to start up the shower.   
“Decided to call while you’re showering?”   
“I missed your face.” Harry answers, picking his phone back up to look at Louis. “I’ll be right out, don’t hang up.” Harry requests, wishing he could kiss Louis through the phone somehow.   
“I’ll be right here, wishing I could see what’s going on in that shower.” Louis sighs, wistfully.   
“Oh, you mean like how I’m washing myself? Getting all sudsy and wet?” Harry teases, giggling at Louis’s pained groan.  
“You’re a menace.” Louis whines.   
“Never claimed to be otherwise.” Harry announces over the sound of water.   
“Louis, we need to go—”  
“I’ll be right out.” Louis answers and Harry feels his smile fall from his face quicker than he could snap his fingers.   
“Almost forgot that she was there.” Harry sighs as he turns off the water.   
“I wish you were here with me, Curly.” Louis sighs.   
“Me too, Lou. Look, you’ve got things to do and so do I. Call me when you get back home.” Harry chews on the inside of his lip.   
“Don’t forget about me, Curly.” Louis jibes, a weak smile gracing his face.   
“I could say the same to you.” Harry whispers, unable to keep the frown off his face.   
“I could never forget you, Harry. Never.” Louis states. Harry sighs, gifting Louis with a smile that feels forced.   
“Go on, spend time with the family. Tell them I say hi and that I miss them all.” Harry sighs, his lips tingling with the desire to kiss him.   
“I will. I love you, Harry.” Louis hums.   
“I love you, too, Lou. More than you could possibly know.” Harry sighs again, reluctant to end the call.   
“Alright, I hear Ernie and Doris running up here. Gotta go.”   
“Yeah, have a good time.” Harry says before telling Louis one more time that he loves him and ending the call.   
He feels unfocused. He’s waiting for Mitch and he can’t stop fidgeting, can’t for the life of him find out how to sit still. He sets about blending up some margaritas and preparing a late lunch, while his mind moves at a million miles per minute. What are they doing, is she kissing him, is he kissing her back, is he touching her, brushing her hair out of her eyes like he does to him, is he smiling at her the way he smiles at Harry, gifting her with the smile that he’s only ever gifted Harry, are they—  
“What is all of this?” Mitch asks, taking in the table full of sandwiches, chopped fruit and vegetables and freshly squeezed juice.   
“I couldn’t stop thinking so I—”  
“Alright. Wanna talk about it?” Mitch asks, taking the margarita glasses out of Harry’s hands to set them on the counter. Harry finds himself nodding before he even has time to process the question.   
“I’m worried.” Harry confesses, looking out at the Pacific Ocean as they step out onto the patio.   
“About what?”   
“This is the longest Lou and I have been apart since we started whatever this is. Fourteen days apart and he’s spending it with her.” Harry can feel the grimace as he thinks of her name.  
“Are you worried that he’ll cheat on you or whatever?”   
“I’m worried about that and I’m worried that he’ll rethink his decision to start this back up. That history will repeat itself.” Harry takes a gulp of margarita and shakes his head at himself. How familiar this is, he thinks to himself.   
“Has he given you any reason to think that he’s headed in that direction? And didn’t you say that last time it was because of this contract or whatever? How could that happen again?”  
“Not that part. I mean—”  
“Him leaving you again.” Mitch finishes. Harry takes another gulp of margarita, nodding his head. “Shouldn’t you talk to him about this?” Mitch asks.   
“You’re right. Yeah, I’ll talk to him. Later, when he gets home.” Harry says more to himself than to Mitch, straightening his back, squaring his shoulders and taking a deep breath. “Alright, let’s talk business.”   
After a couple more margaritas and a few slaps to the face, Harry was able to get his game face on. But the loud trilling of his phone was enough to have him suffer from cardiac arrest. He tumbled over the coffee table, for certain that he’s bruised both knees and his right elbow, but he managed to wrestle his phone away from a chuckling Mitch.   
“Hi.” He answers breathlessly.   
“Hello, Curly. Sounding quite breathless there.” Louis’s voice rings through the receiver.   
“Yeah, had quite the trip just now. Had to wrestle my phone away from Mitch. Still didn’t get more than a chuckle out of him.” Harry replies, finding his shag rug to be very cozy in this moment as he stares up at the tall ceilings and sighs as he feels a cool ocean breeze waft through the open patio doors to soothe his warm cheeks.   
“And by trip, you mean that you literally tripped, don’t you?” Harry tries to fight the smile that is spreading across his face, but he can’t.   
“I did, yes.”  
“Such a Bambi.” Louis teases. Harry hisses in pain at the sudden jab to his shin.   
“Talk to him about what we said earlier.” Mitch reminds before standing up to give him privacy.   
“Hey, Lou.” Harry groans as he moves to a seated position.  
“Hey, Curly.” Harry giggles at the response, shaking his head lightly to clear it.   
“I wanted to talk to you about something.”   
“What is it, love?” Louis replies.   
“I’m scared.”   
“Of what, darling?”   
“The distance.”   
“Oh? Why?”  
“This is the longest we’ve been apart since we started this back up.”  
“Can I be honest?”  
“Please?”   
“I’m afraid, too.”  
“Why?”  
“The same reason. I keep thinking that you’ll change your mind.” Louis’s confession shouldn’t warm Harry’s heart the way it does, but he can’t help it.  
“I keep picturing you and her doing all of the things that we do.” Harry confesses, running his fingers through the soft fibers of his rug for something to focus on rather than allowing his mind to run with the images of Louis kissing her, Louis biting her neck, his face screwed up in pleasure that she caused, Louis sweaty while he—   
“You don’t have to worry about that, darling.”  
“No? But don’t you have to kiss her and hold her hand and—”  
“Think of it like I’m acting. In a rom-com, don’t they kiss, even if they have partners in real life?”   
“Well, yeah—”  
“It’s just like that. It’s not real, baby.” Louis reassures. Harry leans his head against his couch, sighing.   
“I get that, but it still sucks.” His insides flutter at Louis’s responding chuckle.   
“That it does, baby. Is that all you wanted to talk about?”   
“Well, I mean—I’m sort of afraid that you’ll leave again.” Harry admits, focusing on the swaying palms and the stars that he can see from his spot on the floor.   
“I can’t promise you that we’ll last forever but I can promise that I want it to. That if we do end, it won’t be because of me leaving. I’m not going anywhere this time, Curly.” Louis avers. Harry feels his heart swell to dangerous sizes but he’s happy to do nothing to stop it.   
“I miss you, Lou.” Harry whines.   
“I miss you, too, darling. More than you know.”  
“Well then tell me.”  
“I see that Narcissist Harry is alive and well.” Louis jokes, blessing Harry’s ears with more chuckles.   
“Yes, and he demands you tell him just how much you miss me.”  
“Alright, I’ll tell you the dreadful time I had. She kept clinging to me, resting her head on my shoulder, kissing my neck, my cheek, anywhere she could get her lips on me—”  
“I thought you were supposed to be telling me how much you missed me.”   
“Another margarita, Draco?” Mitch asks, to which Harry nods.   
“Draco?” Louis asks.   
“It’s a joke. Because my name is Harry, he thought it’d be funny to call me my opposite.”   
“Hm.” Is that jealousy I hear, Louis Tomlinson; Harry doesn’t want to feel good about this, but he’s only human.   
“You were telling me how terrible your day was.”  
“It was awful. I had to dodge her all day long. Finally, Phoebs and Dais caught on and helped me by keeping her occupied.” Louis sighs.   
“Can I be honest?”  
“Always.”  
“Jealousy is an ugly thing.”  
“And it’s always been a part of you.” Louis states, chuckling. Harry smiles up at Mitch as he accepts his margarita.   
“You are a saint, Mitch Rowland.”   
“For bringing you a margarita?”   
“Indeed.”  
“I’m cutting you off your supply, you slob.” Mitch teases when Harry presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek.   
“Did you just kiss him?” Louis breathes through the receiver.  
“On his cheek, yes.”   
“Hm. You’re right.”   
“About?”  
“Jealousy is ugly.”  
“Told you.” Harry hums as he sips his margarita. “But you have nothing to worry about, bubs. Mitch is like a brother.”   
“So, you’re drunk?”  
“Mm, a little. We do tend to have a few drinks when we work.”   
Harry ends up falling asleep against his rug, rubbing against the smoothness of it, swearing to Louis that he has to come to his house to feel it and giggling endlessly as Louis teases him about his taste of interior design. His phone is still in his hand when he wakes up with a kink in his neck. He looks outside, breathing in the clean, crisp air before stretching. As he makes his way to the kitchen for a glass of water, he realizes that Mitch cleaned up before leaving.   
“Bless your heart, Mitchell Rowland.” He groans, as he makes his way back to his room to plug his phone into his charger and soak away the previous day in his tub when his phone begins trilling.   
“You look no worse for wear.” Louis greets, a smirk on his lovely face.   
“Yeah, well. How are you?” Harry asks, turning on the tap and pouring lavender essential oil into the water along with his favorite vanilla scented bath bomb.   
“Well rested. Have another planned pap shoot in the morning.” Louis sighs.  
“Hm, how fun.” Harry grumbles as he lets his wrinkled button-down fall from his shoulders onto the cold tile floor.   
“Harry.”  
“I know, I know. I can’t help it.” Harry sighs, running his hand through his hair before undressing his fingers of his rings.   
“I love you.”   
“I know, Lou; I love you, too.”   
“What are you doing right now?”  
“About to wash away my sins.”  
“Shower?”  
“No, gonna soak in a bath.” Harry answers as he steps into the warm lavender-vanilla water.   
“Wish I could join.”  
“Me too.” Harry hums in satisfaction as the warmth of the water starts to work its magic on his sore limbs. “Sleeping on the floor was a bad idea. Who would’ve thunk?” Harry revels in the laugh that seeps out of Louis’s mouth.   
“I tried to tell you but you insisted that it was the fluffiest and coziest thing on the planet.”   
“You shut it.”   
“I’ve gotta get going, darling. Call you later?”   
“Please do.” Harry hums, that tingling in his lips stronger today than yesterday. After they end the call, Harry curses Father Time because it seems that he’s against him. Being away from Louis seems to have altered it, making the seconds feel like minutes and minutes feel like hours, and let us not even get started on how long the days feel. If Harry had to describe with words how it feels to be away from Louis, he would paint you a picture of Hell; he would craft a painful mosaic of being trapped in an agonizing Hell loop, but maybe he’s being a tad dramatic. So, who can blame him when he’s thrilled at being rescued from Hell and allowed to enter the Gates of Heaven? Unfortunately, there’s another thirteen days until he’s released from his torment.   
Every day, Harry calls Louis just to hear him talk, to simply hear him breathe.   
“Hazza, look at this. What does it look like to you?” he’s asked him one day, turning the camera to face the sky.   
“Either an eggplant or a—”  
“Oh, hi there, little monkeys, why don’t you say hi to Harry?” He interrupted, pulling stifled laughter from Harry.   
Another couple of days and he’s jogging while he listens to Louis play with the twins.   
“Harry, take him back, he keeps stealing our cookies!” Ernest whined, leaping up to try to take the cookies from Louis’s raised hand.   
“Pinch him in the sides, Ernie, he’s ticklish there.” Harry instructs, fighting the laugh that wants to burst out of him at the yelp that leaves Louis’s lips.   
“Traitor!” Louis accuses Harry.   
One night, he’s taking a walk along the beach, showing Louis each sand sculpture, each rock or cove that catches his eye.   
“Fuck, I miss you.” Louis had breathed while Harry sat to admire the ocean in the moonlight.   
“I miss you, too. Not much longer now, right?” Harry answered, looking back at his phone to admire Louis through the silicon.   
“Still feels like forever.” Louis sighed.   
“I know.”  
“You look so beautiful in the moonlight, Hazza.” Louis hummed; eyes glazed over as he stared at Harry. “And the blush that stains your cheeks is my favorite color.” Which just made Harry’s cheeks flame hotter. “My beautiful boy.” Louis murmured, head resting against a mountain of pillows and face warmed by the lamp on his bedside table.   
“You’re so golden.” Harry answered, getting lost in the warm gold of Louis’s skin. “I miss you so much Lou.”  
“Not much longer now.” Louis parroted.   
The day that Harry is set to return home, Louis surprises him by turning up at his Malibu residence. Harry feels frozen with shock.   
“Lou?”  
“Surprise?” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders. Harry pulls Louis into a crushing embrace, afraid that if he lets him go, he’ll disappear and it’ll have been a dream.   
“You’re really here?” Harry asks, pulling back to look into his favorite eyes.   
“I think so, yes.” Louis chuckles, cupping Harry’s face between his hands. “Can I kiss you now?” Louis asks, eyes darting from Harry’s eyes to his mouth.   
“Yes, please.” Harry responds, pulling Louis over the threshold and kicking the door shut as he awaits the feeling he’s been dreaming of. The tingling in his lips has turned into a throb as the excitement builds. Harry is sure that he is about to explode when Louis’s lips touch his, is absolutely certain that he’s died when Louis whimpers against his mouth. What happens next is a flurry of clothes being thrown about and the sounds that are bouncing off the walls, well, Harry isn’t sure who the sounds belong to; the only feeling that Harry can even comprehend are Louis’s hands and expert mouth, the feeling of being connected to Louis in the most intimate of ways. He can’t tell where Louis’s body begins and where his own ends. By the time they’re finished, they’re both sweaty, the sheets are slipping off the bed, and its already noon. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much.” Harry says breathlessly as he traces nonsensical patterns into Louis’s skin.  
“I’ve missed you, too, Curly.” Louis chuckles, combing his fingers through Harry’s hair and down his spine.   
“I was supposed to come home today; what made you come here?” Harry asks, resting his chin against Louis’s firm chest to look up at him.   
“I just wanted to be with you. See the sea glinting in your eyes, see your perfect face lit up in the moonlight, watch you roll around on that bloody shag rug. I just needed to be with you.” Louis states, breathlessly as he stares into Harry’s eyes, completely unaware of the effect that his words just had on him.  
“I wanted to be with you, too, Lou. I was losing my mind.” Harry chuckles, leaning down to press his lips to Louis’s chest. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re here.” Harry mumbles, lips brushing against Louis’s chest as he speaks.   
“I think you showed me how much.” Louis jests, nudging between Harry’s thighs.   
“Yeah, well, I said I missed you, didn’t I?” Harry replies, moving to get up. As he sits on the edge of the bed to stretch, Louis wraps his arms around his midsection to pull him back onto the bed.   
“Where do you think you’re going?” Louis growls into Harry’s ear, his breath tickling his neck.   
“To make food. I’m famished; aren’t you?” Harry giggles, clasping Louis’s hands between his own.   
“Hm, now that you mention it—” Louis starts, biting on Harry’s shoulder.   
“You are insatiable.” Harry giggles, breathless.   
“I don’t think it’s wrong that I want you every which way til Sunday, considering I haven’t been in your presence for fourteen days.” Louis grumbles, lightly sucking on the skin beneath Harry’s ear. “Fourteen days that I haven’t been able to kiss you.” He purrs, nipping at Harry’s jawbone before planting a soft kiss to it. “Fourteen days that I haven’t been able to touch you.” He continues, hands roaming down the length of Harry’s body to put emphasis on his words. “Fourteen days that I haven’t been able to hear you pant or whimper my name.” His hips cant up into Harry’s, involuntarily, with a whimper of his own. “I’ve missed all of it.”   
“I see, you’ve only missed me in the sack, then? Pun intended.” Harry jibes, already under Louis’s lustful spell.   
“No, you twat.” Louis grumbles, pinching Harry’s sides. “Hm, now that you mention it, I’ve missed your cooking.” Louis sighs, shoving Harry to his side of the bed. “So, get up. Make me food, kitchen wench.” Louis jokes, sending a wink his way for good measure.  
“So, you’re just going to get me worked up and not do anything about it?” Harry asks, feigning offense.   
“Whip me up some good lunch and I’ll give you anything you ask for, princess.” Louis promises, winking once more. Harry groans, an uncomfortable twitch pulling in his lower abdomen.   
“And you call me the menace.” Harry whines before standing.   
“Hurry along now, princess!” Louis calls to his retreating back. As he’s standing in the kitchen, pondering a suitable lunch, his phone ringing bounces off the walls.   
“Mitchell!” he answers, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulls out ingredients for fish tacos.   
“You missed your flight?”   
“How’d you know?”   
“Jeff called me. He was asking if I knew where you were because he tried to get a hold of you but you weren’t answering.”   
“Ah, yes, that was probably when I was rolling around the bed with Lou.”   
“Louis is there?”  
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Harry feels a butterfly conservatory in his stomach as he thinks of Louis waiting for him in the bedroom.  
“You’re alright?” Mitch asks, his worry palpable through the phone.   
“More than alright.”   
“Alright, as long as you’re sure.”   
“I am. We’re about to have lunch, if you wanted to swing by.”   
“Right, I think it’s best that I don’t. I have a feeling that you both are going to be spending the day in the nude.” Harry chuckles, further proving his point. “I’m guessing that you’re making this lunch in the nude as well, aren’t you?”   
“You know me so well, Mitchell.” Harry chuckles, switching the phone to his other shoulder while he seasons the white fish. “What about drinks tonight? I’ll put on clothes; I promise.” Harry teases.   
“Fine. A couple of drinks.”   
“Sounds good. See you tonight.” Harry departs, clicking end on the call to finish lunch.   
“See who tonight?” Louis asks, startling Harry.   
“Jesus, you scared me.”  
“Sorry, darling. Who are we seeing tonight?”  
“Mitch; he’s coming over for a few drinks.” Harry answers, still trying to breathe normal.   
“Guess I’d better make the best of the time that we are alone, hm?” Louis purrs.   
“But I’m almost finished making lunch.” Harry pouts.   
“Oh, you can finish making lunch, princess. Don’t mind me.” Louis says, voice sugary sweet as he kisses between Harry’s shoulder blades. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, lovely.” He tries, he really does, but he can’t focus when he has Louis’s hands dancing on his hips and Louis’s mouth pirouetting on his back. How is he to focus on what he’s doing when he can feel Louis’s arousal pressing into his behind? How does he finish preparing their meal when he has a symphony of Louis’s kisses deafening him?   
“Fuck lunch.” Harry growls, spinning on his heel and lifting Louis into his arms to carry him back to the bed. Harry doesn’t see them finding the will to get out of bed, but he can’t say that he minds one bit.   
By the time that Mitch arrives, they still haven’t climbed out of bed and the fish on the stove has been sitting all day. Just as Harry is about to initiate another round, Mitch pounds on the door.   
“I know better than to open your door when it’s closed, so hurry up and come out!” Mitch calls from the other side of the door. Louis looks to Harry with a brow raised in question.   
“He may have walked in on me one night. Meditating.” Harry reveals with a wink for emphasis. “Safe to say that he’s learned his lesson.” Harry finishes, standing to pull on a pair of sweats.   
“I’ll be right out, Haz.” Louis assures, walking into the bathroom while Harry makes his way out to greet Mitch.   
“So, tear each other’s clothes off the minute he walked through the door, huh?” Mitch asks, gesturing to the clothes scattered all over the floor. Harry sets about picking up the scattered clothes with a sheepish smile.   
“Alright, sue me. I’ve been in a drought.” Harry sighs, plopping down next to Mitch.  
“A drought?” Mitch raises a skeptical brow that Harry smirks at.   
“Yes. A Louis Drought. I couldn’t help myself. He looked so good and then he kissed me—”  
“I need no more details, man. That was more than enough. Where are the margaritas, dude? There’s always margaritas.” Mitch deflects. Harry chuckles as he looks away from Mitch. “You mean to tell me that you guys were in bed all day?”   
“Drought, my good sir. Drought. I will get right on those drinks.” Harry answers, slapping his hand on Mitch’s thigh for a moment before standing to head to the kitchen.   
“Sorry, I needed a shower!” Louis announces as he emerges from the hallway. Harry’s heart immediately lights up the room at the simple energy that Louis radiates.   
“Hey there, my sun. Just making some margaritas right now then going to get started on dinner. Do you want a margarita?” Harry asks, the butterflies fluttering behind his ribs when Louis wraps his arms around him from behind.   
“That sounds great, Hazza.” He whispers against Harry’s bare skin and Harry gets the feeling that Louis isn’t thinking about margaritas.   
“Uh—um—erm, yeah, okay. Yeah, I’ll—uh—”  
“See you over there.” Louis says against Harry’s skin once more, pressing his lips between Harry’s shoulder blades.   
It takes Harry longer than he would like to admit to clear his mind of the Louis Fog, but he finally does and hurries about his task of making margaritas and vegan lasagna. His giggles to himself at the way he imagines Louis will react when he tells him.   
“How are my two favorite men doing in here?” Harry greets, handing them their margaritas and taking note of Louis’s clenched jaw.   
“Fine over here, H. Just chilling out.” Mitch answers, accepting his margarita with a smile.   
“And you, Boo?” Harry asks, sitting beside Louis and getting lost in his eyes. Where’d my breath go, Harry wonders as Louis replies.   
“Just fine, Haz. So, what’ve you popped in the oven?”   
“Knowing H, something without meat, although by the sounds of it, he’s had his fill today.” Mitch jokes, smirking over at Harry. Louis’s eyes widen and he covers his mouth as he laughs.   
“So, he’s aware?” Louis asks Harry, a smirk on his face.   
“Well, yeah. Mitchell is my best mate.”   
“And the clothes all over the floor gave it away.”   
“Well, I’m giving you two boys some bonding time, I need to go rinse off. It was a very dirty day, indeed.” Harry informs them, winking at Louis and smirking at Mitch when he snorts his margarita. “Mitchell, listen for the timer. Don’t let my lasagna burn; I mean it.”   
“Then maybe you shouldn’t take so long in the shower.” Mitch quips, making Louis chuckle.  
“So, he does still take forever in the shower!”   
“Oh, he takes years!”   
“He used to take eons so that’s an improvement!”   
“One time, I had to go in to make sure that he was still alive in there!” Harry would feel wounded if it weren’t for Louis’s adorable laugh; Louis crunches over and hides his face while he laughs.  
“Well, I’ll take my leave now. I’ve had my feelings hurt enough; I think.” Harry claps his hands once, pretending to pout as he turns away.   
“You can’t fool me, Styles. You’re looking for cuddles and I refuse to give in!” Mitch hollers as Harry continues walking. He chuckles as he enters his room. Lust attempts to abduct him as he is bombarded with memories of his day spent in bed with Louis. Arousal starts bleeding through his body as he inhales, the scent of sex still staining the air. He shakes his head, trying to clear his mind as he steps into the bathroom.   
He rushes his shower to prove them wrong and rushes back to the living area to find it empty. His brows furrow as he pours himself a margarita before walking out to the patio to have the wind stolen from his body. Louis is sitting at the edge of the pool with his feet in the water, Mitch sitting on the lounge chair behind him but Harry can’t tear his eyes off of Louis. He looks simply breathtaking, Harry thinks. The sun is getting ready to go to bed for the night and is just lighting up Louis in the best way. He has a pair of sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and his hair is pushed back from his face with a headband that he must’ve borrowed from Harry. Both of the men have cigarettes dangling from their lips and Louis is smirking at something that Mitch had said. Harry finds the will to move his limbs and makes his way out to the patio, taking a seat beside Louis and kissing him without hesitation.   
“You know, Mitch Rowland, you’re alright in my book.” Louis says, stamping out his cigarette in the ash tray that Harry offers. “You smoke, Hazza?”   
“No, but Mitch does and this is better than him just flicking it over to the beach.” Harry explains, getting lost in the art of Louis Tomlinson. He can’t be real; Harry thinks to himself as his eyes trace every line of Louis’s face. “You’re so beautiful.” Harry finds his mouth saying.   
“Thanks, love, but I've told you before that staring is rude.” Louis deflects, his cheeks turning a sweet shade of rose.   
“Harry, the oven is—”  
“Got it.” He replies, kissing Louis once again before standing to pull the lasagna out of the oven. He gives himself a moment to catch his breath, attempting to get his heart rate down to a normal pace. He brings the hot dish out to the patio along with the pitcher of margarita that is melting steadily. He heads back inside to grab dishes without a word, his breath stolen from him once again when he catches sight of Louis floating on his back with a peaceful smile on his face.   
“He’s good people.” Mitch mutters to Harry as he prepares Louis’s plate for him. Harry can’t fight the smile that breaks his face, so he doesn’t even try.   
“I know. He’s the best.” Harry looks over at Louis to find him exactly as he was.   
“He speaks very highly of you. If I didn’t know better, I would think you were married.”   
“Unfortunately, we’re not.” Harry sighs but shakes his head to clear himself of any lingering sadness. “I have him now, though. That’s what matters.”  
“I see marriage for you guys soon enough.” Mitch smirks, accepting the plate from Harry.   
“Lou, come over; dinner is done.” Harry calls over.  
“Already the perfect house-husband. Bet you put the clothes in the wash earlier when you picked them up, didn’t you?” Mitch raises a brow.  
“For your information, I cleaned up the bedroom as well.” Harry raises his chin in indignation which causes Mitch to laugh out loud.   
“Of course, you did.”  
“What are we laughing at now?” Louis queries.   
“My ability to be the perfect husband.” Harry huffs, narrowing his eyes at Mitch as he sips his margarita.   
“Husband?” Louis chokes on his first bite, looking over to Harry with wide eyes, which Harry feels nervous about.   
“You don’t think he’d make a good husband?” Mitch asks, frowning.   
“For who?” Louis counters, voice as hard as the way he’s holding his fork.   
“You, of course.” Mitch answers as though Louis is daft to think anything else. Harry catches the way that his shoulders relax, his breath expires in relief, the way his features soften.  
“Hazza would be a dream to be married to.” Louis sighs.  
“I agree.” Mitch chimes in, digging into his food as well. Dinner is relatively quiet after that and Harry isn’t sure what to make of it. When they lay down that night, he brings it up to Louis.   
“Lou?” he says into the dark.   
“Hm?”   
“What was that all about earlier?”   
“What do you mean?”  
“When Mitch was talking about me being a husband? You looked pissed off.” Harry replies. Louis sighs and Harry isn’t sure if he is going to respond.   
“I didn’t like the thought of you being someone else’s husband.” Louis admits, voice quieter than a moment before and Harry knows that he’s blushing.   
“I already told you that I couldn’t move on; so, what makes you think that I would be anyone else’s husband?” Harry pulls back to try to look into Louis’s eyes but the dark prevents it. The moonlight lights Louis’s face up in a way that steals Harry’s breath away again for what feels like the millionth time.   
“You’d want to be my husband?” Louis whispers, his left hand coming up to trace along Harry’s jaw.   
“I wouldn’t want to be anyone else’s husband.” Harry whispers, his right hand coming up to comb through Louis’s hair.   
“I wouldn’t want to be married to anyone else, Hazza.” He whispers.  
“Really?” Harry gasps, inching forward. They’re so close that their lips are brushing.   
“But not now.” Louis says, popping Harry’s bubble.  
“Why?”   
“Slow, love. Slow.” Louis answers, still stroking Harry’s jaw while nudging his nose against Harry’s. Harry’s heart swells, his insides warming.   
“Slow. But we had sex.”  
“That we did, but marriage, Hazza. I don’t want to marry you while I’m stuck in this contract. I want to marry you when I’m free to be with you.” Louis’s answer sends Harry’s heart right into the clouds.   
“But we are forever, Lou?” Harry asks around a yawn. Louis kisses Harry’s lips softly, then kisses his forehead.  
“I want it to be you and I forever.” Louis hums, causing a smile to spread across Harry’s face.   
“I love you, Lou.” Harry sighs, happily.   
“I love you, too, Hazza.” Louis breathes, settling in. Harry falls asleep thinking the words, Lou wants to marry me.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some light smut in this chapter guys, be warned. I'm not great at writing sex scenes, many apologies.

Louis  
“Lima Bean, how are you?!” Louis hollers into the phone while Harry sits across from him, a smile on his face while he talks to Niall.  
“I’m coming home tomorrow, Ni. Yeah, drinks and FIFA as soon as I get back.” Harry says, shaking his head.  
“We should hit up a club or something when I get back.” Louis suggests, sending Harry a wink for good measure.  
“What are you up to?” Liam asks, skepticism bleeding through every word.  
“Can’t I simply want to have a night out with three of my best mates?”  
“Three?”  
“Yes. You, Niall and Haz.”  
“Niall and Harry are going to be there?”  
“Yes, you twat.” Louis sighs, rolling his eyes.  
“Fine, when?”  
“Two days. Heading to the airport now.”  
“Airport?”  
“Yeah, Haz and I are about to catch a flight back home.”  
“You and Haz? A flight? Back home?” The shock vibrates through Louis’s ear, amusing him to no end.  
“Lemme see that, Lou.” Harry says, hand extended for Louis to place his phone into. “Yes, Li. We’re in LA together; yes, we’re headed back to London together; yes, we’ll be headed to my house. We’ll answer all questions at the club.” Harry says, handing Louis his phone back.  
“You are to tell me what is going on the moment you land.” Liam orders.  
“I believe that Haz just told you that we will answer all the questions at the club.” Louis quips. “See you when we get home, Lima. Love you.” Louis ends the call and sighs. “Do you think we’ll even get a word in with those two?” Louis asks Harry, his butterflies tickling his ribs at Harry’s responding chuckle.  
“I don’t know, but can’t blame them for having questions.” Harry shrugs, slinging his bag onto his shoulder and lifting Louis’s for him. “Don’t worry, love. I’ve got them.” He assures when Louis reaches for his bag. “See you at the airport?” he asks, a disappointed sigh released out of his chest.  
“Why don’t we just go together?” Louis suggests, grasping Harry’s free hand and heading to the door. Harry’s confusion and shock are basically radiating out of him.  
“Really?”  
“Yeah. I mean, they can think what they’d like. They don’t know about us, isn’t that right?” Louis smirks, winking.  
“Right. It could be explained away by us just being friends.”  
“Exactly, but we know the truth.” Harry sighs, squeezing Louis’s hand before releasing it to walk out to the car. “The truth about how much I love you and that you love me.” Harry sighs, tossing their luggage into the trunk of his Maserati.  
“And that there’s nothing in this whole world that can change that.”  
“I would move mountains for you, Lou.” Harry hums, leaning over the center console to press a chaste kiss to Louis’s cheek before starting up the car. Louis feels his heart swell at the small gesture and he wishes more than anything that they could just shout their love from the rooftops of every single one of the tallest buildings.  
After a long flight and a long drive, they finally arrive back at Harry’s London home. They collapse into the bed side by side and sleep the day away. Until they are rudely awakened by Niall jumping on top of them.  
“What the fuck have I missed out on?” he shouted before either of them had the time to open their eyes. Harry grumbles as he rolls over and buries his face in Louis’s shoulder blade which awakens the butterflies out of their slumber and Louis thinks it’s much too early for his body to turn to mush.  
“Ireland, get out of here before I kick you.” Louis grumbles, grasping Harry’s hand with his own to tug him closer to his body.  
“Wake your arses up.” Niall orders as he climbs off the bed, taking the covers with him.  
“It’s too early!” Harry whined, curling further into Louis’s body.  
“Its 2 in the afternoon.” Niall corrects, which has Harry turning over to rub the sleep from his eyes.  
“But my body is still on California time.” He says around a yawn as he sits up to stretch.  
“You owe me FIFA, beer and an explanation.” Niall demands, walking out of the room.  
“Join me for a quick shower?” Harry asks Louis and who is Louis to deny a sleepy Harry?  
“I want to say ‘no’, but you look so cute and inviting that I can’t find it in me to say it.” Louis answers, voice thick with sleep as he moves to a seated position. “But with that pointing at me, there are no promises that it will be a quick shower, Harold.” Louis jibes, gesturing to Harry’s lap.  
“It has to be quick; we have company.” Harry chastises, grasping Louis’s hand as they walk towards the bathroom together. Louis grips Harry’s hips when he’s facing the mirror, brushing his teeth; he litters kiss after kiss along Harry’s spine, nibbling on the backs of his thighs and relishing in every sigh that leaves Harry’s toothpaste-filled mouth. When Harry turns around, he runs his hands up Harry’s muscular thighs while he teases him with cool puffs of air to his painful erection. “Louis, please.” Harry pants, music to Louis’s ears. “I—we can’t. Niall is waiting.” Harry argues but his attempts are feeble and his body is telling Louis what he wants to hear.  
“Just a little bit, princess.” Louis sighs against Harry’s thighs.  
“No. We can’t.”  
“Why not? We used to on the tour bus.” Louis argues, smiling to himself when he feels Harry’s resolve start to crumble.  
“Okay, okay. But we have to be quick.” He pants, yanking Louis up to him to crash their lips together and Louis feels like he won the lottery. He allows himself to be walked into the shower, allows Harry to push him against the cold tile, lives for the quickness that Harry’s drops to his knees, but that’s not what he wants right now.  
“As much as I love your mouth, that’s not what I want right now, princess.” Louis hums, tapping underneath Harry’s chin. Louis is in danger of painting Harry’s face when he looks up at him with sex-glazed eyes and lips that are plump with sin.  
“Well, then, what do you want?” Harry teases.  
“I think you already know, baby.” And when Harry stands and turns to bend before him, Louis swears that he’s died and gone to Heaven. “Fuck me, I don’t know if we—”  
“Oi! Get out here!” Niall shouts from the other side of the door, confirming what Louis was already saying.  
“Time. We don’t have time.” Louis sighs and for the third time, he almost finishes untouched, because Harry presses himself against him and whines for it. Harry is bleeding desperation and Louis just wants to give him everything he desires, but right now, he has to decline. “I’ll leave you alone to come back down.” Louis groans, pressing an indecent kiss to Harry’s mouth before exiting the shower. “You are the biggest cock block on the face of the planet.” Louis glares at a smug Niall as he emerges from the bathroom.  
“Have to protect him. I can tell that the whole ‘taking it slow’ thing isn’t working out.” Niall shrugs, leaning against Harry’s headboard with a bowl of popcorn across his lap, ankles crossed and shoes still on.  
“Harry will have your head when he gets out. He hates shoes on the furniture.” Louis smirks; and as though Louis were a psychic, Harry announced his presence with a hefty sigh.  
“Niall, for the love of Christ, get your filthy shoes off the bed. I sleep there, for Heaven’s sake!” Harry whined, a glint of lust in his eyes as he watched Louis saunter past him to the shower.  
After spending the day in the house, playing FIFA, drinking beer and just messing about, they all get ready for a night out with Liam. Louis and Harry say a brief goodbye to Niall before Harry pounces on Louis.  
“Slow down there, love. What’s the rush?” Louis chuckles at Harry’s whimpers and clumsy fingers.  
“The rush is that I’ve been waiting for you all day.” Harry pants against Louis’s collar bones. Louis feels his eyes roll into the back of his skull, feels his blood come alive with lust and feels his body vibrate as Harry kisses down his body.  
“Just a little while longer, Harry.” Louis musters up the strength to decline, much to Harry’s dismay. “It’ll be that much better tonight.” Louis assures.  
***  
After much teasing on Louis’s part and a whole lot of whining and begging on Harry’s, they make it to the very same club that they found themselves at a month ago. How very poetic, Louis thinks. They decided on splitting a cab there, as they will be drinking heavily.  
“Lads!” Louis calls, arm slung over Harry’s shoulders as he waves at Liam and Niall, winking at Niall who is sporting a knowing smirk. Liam’s eyes are threatening to bug out of his skull as they dart back and forth between Harry and Louis.  
“What the fuck?” are the fist words out of his mouth as he catches sight of a particularly vicious love bite that Louis gave Harry before they left. “Are—is this—you guys—”  
“Are ready for a drink, yes, we are.” Louis interrupts, flagging the bartender.  
“Harry, answers, please.” Liam demands.  
“Uh, well, you know how it started.” Harry begins, giving them both the run down. By the end of the interrogation, they are all less than sober.  
“I’m going to grab us another round!” Niall calls over the bass.  
“I’ll be right back, gonna head over to the loo!” Liam announces, leaving Harry and Louis alone in this building full of people. Harry looks beyond beautiful with cheeks flaming with alcohol and eyes just as glassy as his cheeks are red, lips that are a furious red from the amount that he’s been chewing on them and a sweet sweat that is lining his hairline and dripping down his throat.  
“Can I lick the sweat off your throat?” Louis says out loud, and normally, he wouldn’t be bothered by his lack of brain to mouth filter, but as he hears Niall cackle and Liam gasp in shock, his cheeks were warm. His cheeks positively burned; with alcohol or embarrassment, Louis doesn’t know. What he does know is that Harry is asking for him to kiss him with lust and love making his eyes sparkle. All he is sure of is that Harry is clinging to him like a second skin as they make their way onto the dance floor; he’s goofier than when sober and asking for cuddles from everyone but seeking out Louis’s mouth.  
“Lou, kiss me!” Harry whines, dragging out the syllables of each word. Louis is giggling as he declines.  
“Harry, my boy, we’re in public. Gotta keep it down low.” Louis reminds him but he makes no move to escape Harry’s frantic grasp and when a rebellious and defiant gleam alights Harry’s inebriated eyes, he doesn’t stop him or pull away from that demanding mouth. In fact, he deepens it; he rests his hand on the back of Harry’s neck to hold his mouth to his own. He gets far drunker off Harry’s mouth than he was already on alcohol.  
“Louis!” Liam scolds, tugging his arm and breaking the spell. “People are getting this on camera.” He whispers into Louis’s ear, but Louis can’t be bothered.  
“Who cares?” he laughs, shrugging before turning back to Harry.  
“Shit, Lou, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t—” Harry is rambling, trying to keep his hands to himself, but Louis is at the point of no return.  
“Who cares, Haz? I love you!” Louis yells over the music, feeling freer than he has in years. He looks into Harry’s surprised eyes, a smile glued to his face as he repeats himself. “I love you, Harry.”  
“Lou, what—” Harry starts, but Louis wants the world to know—no, he needs them to know. He stands on a table, knocking glasses to the floor in the process without a care in the world.  
“Ladies and gents, yes, I notice all of you filming an intimate moment between this beautiful man and myself and I want you all to know that I love Harry Styles! I love him! He was the love of my life then and he is now and I don’t give a fuck who knows!” He shouts, looking down to Harry who has a proud smile on his face as he climbs onto the table to stand beside Louis. He takes hold of Louis’s hand as he screams his love for Louis.  
“I love Louis Tomlinson! I’d move mountains for you, Lou.” Harry tells him and those words make his insides burn in the most beautiful way, just as they had in the car, where he first said them.  
“I’d move galaxies for you, Hazza.”  
“Always so competitive.” Harry rolls his eyes, fondly. They hadn’t noticed how silent the club had gotten until now, but then Louis takes it one step further and presses another kiss to Harry’s mouth. The club erupts into raucous cheers as Louis kisses Harry and as Harry kisses Louis.  
“I’ll never do anything to lose you, again, Harry.” Louis vows.  
“I know.”  
“So much for slow, huh?” Louis jokes, but with the way that Harry is smiling at him as though he’d hung the moon, he knows that Harry wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.  
“I’m falling again.” Harry says, his forehead pressed to Louis’s as they stand on this table with a club full of people that have all seemed to fade away.  
“I’ll be right here to catch you.” Louis replies, nudging Harry’s nose with his own and Louis’s never said any words truer. 

***  
Harry  
After the club, he can’t contain it any longer. They say their goodbyes to the lads before climbing into the back of a cab. Harry tries to keep his hands to himself but he can’t when Louis looks so good. His shirt is scooping so low in the front of his chest, his jeans are so tight that they’re asking to be torn off and he has a blissed-out smile on his face.  
“I’ve never felt so free, Harry.” Louis sighs.  
“Can I kiss you?” Harry asks, breathless. Louis rolls his head to the side to look over at Harry with a teasing glint in his eyes.  
“I was waiting for you to ask me.” Louis sighs, turning to face Harry before taking his face in his hand and attaching his lips to Harry’s. Finally, Harry thinks, melting into the seat. A second later, Harry is trying to find his way onto Louis’s lap and curses his long limbs when he can’t. “Patience is a virtue, love.” Louis chuckles.  
“That’s rich coming from you, Tomlinson.” Harry groans as he repositions himself on the seat. “Stop giving me that look.” Harry pleads.  
“What look?” Louis asks, feigning innocence.  
“The look that says you’re undressing me with your eyes.”  
“But I am.” Louis states, biting on his bottom lip as his eyes roam the length of Harry’s body. Harry rests his head against the back of the seat, groaning as he feels his erection try to harden further. “When we get home, I am going to positively wreck you, darling.” Louis whispers into Harry’s ear, sending shivers down his spine.  
“Home, huh?” Harry rasps out.  
“Mm, I don’t intend to ever be away from you, if I don’t have to.” Louis hums, kissing beneath Harry’s ear and he swears that he’s seeing stars. “Does that sound good to you?”  
“Mhm, yes, yeah. Very good.” Harry sighs, closing his eyes as Louis nibbles his neck. “God, can this drive hurry up? Holy—fuck me.” Harry breathes when Louis palms him through his trousers.  
“That’s the plan, darling.” Louis chuckles, his breath fanning across Harry’s heated skin. “Almost there, my sweet princess.” Louis coos, pressing particularly hard against Harry’s erection.  
“How much longer, sir?” Harry asks the driver, trying to keep his voice level.  
“About five more minutes, sir.” He responds.  
“Fucking hell, I don’t know if I’ll last five bloody minutes.” Harry gasps while Louis squeezes tighter at Harry’s base.  
“Hold it, Harry.” Louis orders and when he sounds so dominant how could Harry deny him anything? “Understand?”  
“Yes.” Harry sighs, teeth clenched.  
“Good. Almost there.” Louis clears his throat and straightens in his seat, removing his hand from Harry’s lap and he is sure that he could scream right now.  
After what felt more like five hours, they pull in front of Harry’s home and Harry couldn’t be more excited than he is right in this moment. Louis is teasing Harry to no end, holding his hand and swinging it between them as he hums and walks at a leisurely pace.  
“Beautiful night, isn’t it, Hazza?” Louis asks, a smirk on his face as he looks over to Harry.  
“Lou, please.” Harry whines, stopping their advancement to the door to place his forehead against Louis’s; he prays that Louis can feel the desperate need that Harry is suffering.  
“But it’s so lovely out tonight, Harry.” Louis answers, looking up to the sky and the moonlight bathes him in a cool spotlight that steals Harry’s breath.  
“Then fuck me on the bloody patio.” Harry groans, gripping Louis’s hips, feverishly mouthing against his neck.  
“Needy thing, aren’t you?” Louis chuckles, sliding his hands down Harry’s sides.  
“You knew this already; or have you forgotten?” Harry grumbles, biting on Louis’s shoulder.  
“I remember, Haz.” Louis hums, one of his hands finding its way into Harry’s hair. “Let’s get you out of those clothes.” Louis coaxes, walking Harry backwards towards the door.  
“Please.” Harry groans, embracing the cold of the wood that hits his back. “Lou, I need—”  
“I’ve got you, princess.” Louis utters, his voice sultry as he mouths at Harry’s chest while fishing Harry’s house key out of his pockets. “Mm, I am incredibly grateful that you’ve stopped wearing painted on jeans, darling. Wouldn’t have opened the door this quick before.” Louis teases, chuckling.  
“Fuck off.” Harry chuckles, humming his pleasure when Louis captures his mouth in a kiss made to end Harry. “God, I love you.” Harry pants as Louis works on the buttons of his shirt.  
“I love you, too.” Louis whispers, scratching his blunt and short nails against Harry’s now bare chest. “What are you waiting for? Go out to the patio.” Louis demands and Harry would be lying if he said that the idea of fucking on the patio didn’t excite him. He turns and walks his way to the double doors, making a show out of dropping his trousers. “Always so beautiful.” Louis praises, humming his approval. Harry sits on one of the lounge chairs, looking to Louis for further instruction. “Would you like to do the honors?” Louis asks, gesturing to his own clothes. Harry accepts the task wordlessly, all too excited to reveal Louis’s golden skin to his greedy and lustful eyes.  
“Mm, Lou.” Harry hums, closing his eyes as he rests his head against Louis’s strong thighs.  
“I know, princess, I know.” Louis hums, combing his fingers through Harry’s hair. “Come up here.” Louis beckons, his eyes telling Harry the story of a starving man. He lies Harry back on the lounge chair, taking his place on top of him before leaning over to pick up his jeans. Harry watches through hazy vision as Louis pulls a condom and a packet of lube out of his jeans with a smirk.  
“Presumptuous.” Harry accuses.  
“No, I just knew that we’d end up needing it.” Louis corrects, surprising Harry when he slides the condom down his length rather than his own. He shocks Harry further when he sinks down on top of him with nothing more than a wince. “Prepped earlier.” Louis gasps, smirking down at Harry.  
“The perfect man.” Harry groans out when Louis rolls his hips. Harry loses himself in the moment, certain that he blacked out for a good fifteen minutes, came back around to find Louis covered in a light sheen of sweat which was illuminated by the moon that Harry wished he could paint, then proceeded to black out once again from the mind boggling pleasure that coursed through his body. He comes back around when he feels Louis paint his torso and hears his cries of pleasure. “Holy fuck.” Harry pants with Louis panting out a breathless laugh beside him.  
“I’ll meet you in the shower. Need to clean up.” Louis huffs, planting a sloppy kiss to Harry’s useless mouth.  
“Mm.” is all he is able to say. When he is able to find his strength once more, Louis is already lying in bed, awaiting Harry to join him. “Give me a moment, love, I’ll be right there.” Harry informs him, heading to wash himself off. As he’s washing his sins down the drain, he recalls what happened.  
***  
“Ladies and gents, yes, I notice all of you filming an intimate moment between this beautiful man and myself and I want you all to know that I love Harry Styles! I love him! He was the love of my life then and he is now and I don’t give a fuck who knows!” Louis shouted at the top of his lungs, arms outstretched as he stands on the table with his face pointed towards the ceiling. Niall nudges Harry with a smirk on his face.  
“Get up there.” He suggests. Harry climbs up to stand beside Louis, taking his hand in his own.  
“I love Louis Tomlinson! I’d move mountains for you, Lou.” Harry shouted, living in the twinkling in Louis’s eyes.  
“I’d move galaxies for you, Hazza.”  
“Always so competitive.” Louis had taken Harry’s face in his hands and kissed him like no one was watching.  
***  
“You told everyone that you love me!” Harry gasps as he emerges from the bathroom, still dripping wet with a towel forgotten in his hands. Louis chuckles, nodding his head.  
“I did. You, also, told everyone that you love me.” Louis states, an amused expression sitting on his perfect face. Harry pounces on him, chuckling at his responding grunt. He looks down at Louis’s lips and presses his own against them, pouring his love into the one kiss.  
“Fuck, I love you so much.” Harry breathes.  
“I love you, too. Come to bed, would you?” Louis chuckles, shaking his head. Harry nods his head, climbing under the sheets and adjusting himself to fit into the curve of Louis’s body. Before he can fall asleep, though, his mind can’t help one particular thought from rising to the surface.  
“What does this mean for us now, Lou?” He whispers to the dark.  
“That’s tomorrow’s problem, babe.” Louis sighs, pressing a kiss to Harry’s shoulder.  
***  
Several Months Later…  
“So, you two are married now?” Jimmy Fallon asks, and in Harry’s personal opinion, he’s always been one of Harry’s favorites.  
“Uh, yeah.” Harry answers, chuckling as he looks down at his and Louis’s joined hands.  
“Well, get on with it; spill the beans.” He urges, sitting forward with his chin in his hands like a schoolgirl. Louis rolls his eyes, fondly and Harry chuckles.  
“It all started when my album was released.” Harry starts.  
“I listened and like the meddling kids they are, Niall and Liam thought it would be a good idea to force us into the same room together.” Louis continues.  
“It hurt at first—seeing Lou after all those years of no contact—but it was worth it.” Harry reveals.  
“But he called me that night, absolutely pissed out of his mind. Honestly, Harold, your words were slurring all over the place.” Louis teases. “But he demanded answers and I gave it to him. I told him that I still loved him.” Louis’s voice gets softer at the end there.  
“And well, I think we all know that I was still head over heels in love with Lou. Then, we started spending time together, again. He told me that he wanted to know everything about me, so I told him.” Harry states, studying Louis’s profile.  
“I realized how much he’s grown and it just made me so proud.”  
“Then, on a night of celebration with the lads, Louis kisses me on the dancefloor. When people started recording, Louis stood on the table and declared his love for me.”  
“And Harry did the same.”  
“Even though we were afraid what would happen—because of the bloody contract that he was still bound to—but it all ended up for the better. Eleanor sided with us at the meeting.” Harry sighs; if he’s being completely honest, he doesn’t know if he could ever truly like that woman or trust her, but he appreciates what she did for them, nonetheless.  
“Eleanor, as in Louis’s ex-girlfriend?” Jimmy asks, eyes wide in shock as this part wasn’t released to the public. Louis takes a deep breath as he nods.  
“Yes. Our relationship may have been a farce, but the friendship wasn’t. She stood up for us when we were getting our asses handed to us at the meeting.”  
“Management wanted to keep us apart; told us to make a statement that we were joking, that it was the alcohol, but Eleanor took one look at us and everything changed.”  
“She stood up and simply said, ‘no’. They looked at her like she lost her head and maybe she did, I don’t know, but I appreciate her.”  
“She told them that it was wrong of them to try to hide Louis, to force him to stay in the closet when he was so clearly ready to be out and that she refused to help them keep him locked away any longer.” Harry finishes, his free hand toying with his rings.  
“Harry?” Jimmy calls, looking at him skeptically. “How did that feel?”  
“Uh, I can’t explain it. I appreciate her, greatly, but I think it’s going to take me awhile to fully heal from that.” Harry admits, blushing under Louis’s gaze.  
“Understandable. So, get to the proposal; who proposed to who?” Jimmy asks.  
“I proposed.” Louis answers, a proud smile in place. Harry blushes as he recounts what happened.  
“I was getting ready to start tour, so we were having a little date night since we would be spending the better part of a year apart. Everything was going as it normally would; I cooked for us, we lounged around the house, but then—”  
“When he was coming back from grabbing a second bottle of wine, I was on one knee with his ring in my hand. He said ‘yes’ before I could even get the chance to ask.” Louis says, chuckling.  
“Could anyone blame me? The man of my dreams was on one knee, looking beautiful as ever and with a ring in his hand? Also, marrying you was my dream ever since we first met!” Harry defends, lightly squeezing Louis’s hand.  
“Too cute for words, guys. So, what’s next for you two?” Jimmy asks.  
“We’re not sure. I know that I want kids, but I think we’re just enjoying our time together right now.” Harry answers, pressing a kiss to Louis’s cheek, unable to help himself any longer and blushing furiously at the responding ‘aw’s.  
“Sounds like a good plan to me, Curly.” Louis answers.  
“Well, thanks so much for spending time with me you guys.”  
“It was our pleasure, honestly. You’re our favorite.” Harry whispers, conspiratorially.  
“I’ll be sure to let James know that when I see him. Congratulations on your recent nuptials.” Jimmy continues, moving to stand to give them a hug.  
“Thanks, mate. I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else.” Louis says, looking over Jimmy’s shoulder at Harry.  
“Neither would I.” Harry confirms.  
“There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Louis and Harry Tomlinson!” Jimmy concludes and Harry loves the butterflies that erupt from within him at the sound of his name; Harry Tomlinson.  
“Hm, I love you Louis Tomlinson.” Harry says, arm around Louis’s shoulders.  
“I love you, too, Harold Tomlinson.” Louis chuckles, his arm around Harry’s middle.  
“Forever?” Harry asks.  
“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” Louis jests, pecking Harry’s lips and Harry thinks that he would like to live in this moment forever. 

The End.


End file.
